


High School Musical: Bandom Edition

by izzsa



Series: High School Musical: Bandom Edition [1]
Category: Bandom, Cobra Starship, Fall Out Boy, Panic! at the Disco, The Academy Is...
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Brendon and Ryan are the result of me watching Brokeback Mountain too many times, Gabe is popular, High School Musical - Freeform, Jon is kind of an asshole, M/M, Victoria and Ryland are scary, William is the new kid
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-13
Updated: 2014-06-15
Packaged: 2017-12-11 18:36:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 34,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/801884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/izzsa/pseuds/izzsa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gabe's friends think he needs to get his head in the game, but after meeting William at the New Year's party, he thinks this could be the start of something new.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Start of Something New

**Author's Note:**

> I began this fic a while ago on LJ and decided to pick it back up again. Ao3 seems awesome and everyone's doing it, so I'm giving it a shot c:
> 
> some themes and snippets of quotes have been borrowed from the High School Musical films which I do not own

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabe's friends think he needs to get his head in the game, but after meeting William at the New Year's party, he thinks this could be the start of something new.

**W**

“You must be kidding – William!!”

William suddenly jerks into reality at the sound of his mother calling his name. He looks up from the book he’s been pouring himself into and watches as his mother comes towards him from across the dimly lit room, her heels clicking loudly on the wood floor. William admires the way her sparkly red dress flows behind her, temporarily distracted from the stern look decorating her otherwise lovely features and the fact that he’s probably in trouble. She always dresses so well, but tonight she is even more radiant. William himself is slightly more down-dressed than his mother and the other adults in the room sipping their champagne and chatting about politics and what-have-you. He’s got on a simple blue V-neck with his favorite pair of bell jeans – a tad casual, but he feels that it doesn’t matter much when he isn’t really involving himself in the party, anyway. He’s managed to keep quiet and hidden on this couch in the corner for the majority of the evening, but apparently he can’t hide any longer. He smiles warmly up at his mother, enjoying the way the light from the fireplace dances off her golden dangly earrings.

“You look pretty, Mom,” William tells her, pulling his long hair out of his eyes to see her better. She smiles a small ‘that’s sweet of you’ at the compliment, but shakes her head.

“Yes, you told me that twice in the car ride here,” she laughs slightly. Then she crosses her arms and purses her lips. “What are you still doing here? I told you hours ago, there’s a kids’ party going on downstairs. You should go!”

William makes a face. He hadn’t forgotten about the teen party. How could he when his reading was constantly being interrupted by the loud thumping of the bass turned up too high and horrible singing? – the result of what he’d assumed was karaoke going on downstairs. He had shuddered at the thought of subjecting himself to humiliation like that.

“I’d really rather not,” William smiles down at the book that’s still lying open in his lap, like what his mother is saying is only joking. His mother huffs.

“It’s New Year’s, William!” William looks back up at her and quirks a skeptical eyebrow. “It’s a time to make resolutions. A new you! Do you really want to spend this next year sitting in a corner, reading like you always have? You need to live a little. You’re only young for a short time.” She looks around with disdain at her fellow adults with their dull conversations and even duller lives.

William is silent for a short time, considering. He nibbles on his lower lip. Well, why not see what the big deal is downstairs? If it’ll make his mother happy…

He sighs and closes his book, then stands up, handing it to her.

“Fine,” he smiles. His mother smiles back and she takes the book before he heads towards the stairs.

**G**

“One more, champ, let’s go,” Gabe’s father urges from across the small court, panting as he’s slightly out of breath. Not to mention sweaty. He chucks the basketball towards Gabe who catches it easily. Gabe bites the inside of his cheek and rolls his eyes. He’s barely broken a sweat, though they’ve been playing for – who knows how long, honestly? But all the same, he’s tired of it and he lets it show on his face.

“Dad, come on, there’s a party downstairs,” he whines as he spins the orange ball in his hands. “And I feel bad for all those kids having to sit through a party that I’m not at,” he adds with a cocky smirk.

“You and your parties, Gabe,” his dad mutters – not technically saying no. He shakes his head and walks over, motioning for Gabe to pass him the ball. Instead, though, Gabe looks over his father’s head and, with an effortless movement of his hands, shoots a basket from his place at half-court. He smirks at the irritated face his father gives him and sends him a small wave with two fingers. He turns on the heel of his bright neon sneakers and struts out of the room.

*

After showering and changing out of his slightly sweaty clothes, Gabe whistles to himself as he heads toward the doors to the teens’ New Year’s party. The vibrations from what sound like pretty high-quality speakers thrum in his eardrums pleasantly and he grins. This is gonna be great.

Gabe busts through the doors and is immediately greeted by strobe lights and vibrant outfits and loud chatter and he loves it. He walks through the crowd, bumping fists and shaking hands with people he barely recognizes from school, and that’s what he loves the most. Being able to mingle with everyone, having a great time and everyone enjoying each other’s company, it’s like the world is temporarily at peace.

When he isn’t looking where he’s going, Gabe is startled when he suddenly runs into someone.

“Woahh!” He reaches out a hand to steady the person he’d run into and ends up grasping onto a very skinny shoulder attached to a long mane of curly brown hair.

“’Scuse me,” he says in that charming voice he reserves for ladies only. He considers it a bit of a tease, seeing as he’s not really into girls, but he’d rather be a nice, likeable guy than a douchebag. “Sorry, Sweetheart. That was my bad.”

“’Sweetheart’?” the girl – oh God. Gabe’s eyes now fly over the person he ran into’s body that – however feminine at first glance – is definitely male viewed from the front now. A blue V-neck dips down a broad, flat chest and the hem of the shirt ends about two centimeters before his low-rise jeans begin and Gabe feels his mouth drop open just slightly. He clears his throat and lifts his eyes to meet the boy’s. And even when he averts his eyes, he’s still left nearly drooling over _wow, I like your face_.

“Oh. Uh, I’m sorry. I thought…” he trails off.

Contrary to what Gabe is expecting after undeniably mistaking this guy for a chick, the boy pulls some long brown locks from his face and smiles shyly as he looks at him with pretty brown eyes. He laughs awkwardly. “Hah, that’s okay. I get th-that a lot,” he admits, stuttering a bit. He shrugs. And before Gabe has a chance to continue their conversation, possibly end the night with a new number in his phone, or even ask his name, the boy looks down at his shoes and shuffles away into the crowd, shoulders slouched.

…And just like that, he’s gone.

Gabe chews the inside of his cheek and his brows knit together. Okay, that is not what he likes about parties. Can’t say he’s ever had that happen to him.

At that moment, the current duet performing karaoke finish their song – the short boy with crazy, curly hair looks smug as he waves and blows kisses to the crowd that cheers him on (whether they’re being honest or just humoring him isn’t quite clear), while the girl next to him with some strange flaming orange hair looks out at the crowd with a look of horror on her face; stiff and looking pale like she’s about to vomit.

“Alriiiiigggghhtt!” comes a familiar voice over the speakers. Gabe looks over to the DJ booth to see Alex Suarez grinning into his microphone. He’s wearing sunglasses inside like the top-notch douchebag he is. Gabe loves this guy.

“Ian and Hayley, everyone!” Alex barks over the speakers, clapping along with the crowd. Gabe joins him, an idea hatching as he watches the two singers make their way off the stage in the middle of the room. Alex presses a couple buttons on the control panel and a Lady Gaga song starts resonating throughout the place. He peeks over his dark shades to look out at the crowd. “Okay, hang tight, folks. Karaoke will be back again after a short break!” There are a few sarcastic ‘aww’s from the crowd. Alex ignores them and his eyes search the room until they fall on Gabe who nods at him before heading over. Alex removes the obnoxiously big headphones from around his neck and hops down from the booth.

“Saporta!” Alex slides his sunglasses up onto his forehead and pulls Gabe into a manly hug, “What’s happenin’, man? Haven’t seen you since, like, December!”

Gabe grins. “Still technically December, dude.” Alex simply shushes him, however, with a waggle of his index finger.

“Details, details,” he says. “So what can I do you for? Got any requests? I tell you what; this DJ thing is really doing it for me.” Gabe chuckles. Of course it would. You have to be a certain kind of asshole to handle that job, and Alex is just that kind.

Gabe leans over and puts an arm around the shorter guy’s shoulders. “Yeah, man, actually, I was wondering if you could do me a favor…”

*

The song currently playing comes to an end and Alex pushes a button.

“Aaaaand, we’re back!!” Alex yells. His douchebag sunglasses are back in place on the bridge of his nose and he quickly slips his headphones around his neck. One might question why he even bothers wearing them: probably just for show. The crowd cheers loudly and he seems to soak in all the attention for a second or two longer than necessary. Then he continues.

“Okay, ladies and gentlemen, let’s see who the next lucky duo’s gonna be!” He points over at a tall shaggy-haired kid on a pedestal with a spotlight, “Dallon, do your thing!”

The kid nods and flips on the spotlight. He waves it around randomly for a second or two, and then turns it in a way that could almost be considered deliberately on Gabe. Everyone’s cheering gets a little louder and Gabe feigns surprise. ‘Me?’ he mouths. Then he shrugs and ‘gives into’ the encouragements of everyone around him. He grins and runs toward the stage, waving at everyone like he’s some sort of rock star.

“And now, for lucky contestant number two!” Alex gestures again at Dallon who waves the light around some more. It looks like he’s picking someone at random, but Gabe can see that Dallon’s actually searching in the direction Gabe had pointed towards a few minutes earlier as he’d slipped 10 bucks into the kid’s hand. Gabe hopes to God that the guy hasn’t changed locations since then…

The white light falls on a skinny figure hiding in the back, messing with his phone. He looks up and squints into the light, confused, then looks around. Gabe can see him mouthing ‘what? What’s going on?’ to everyone around him who are pushing him towards the stage. When he looks at Gabe up on the stage, sudden realization seems to dawn on his face and his eyes get extremely wide before some long hair falls in front of them. He stumbles over his long legs a little but manages to get there in one piece.

“We meet again,” Gabe shouts over the loud noise of the party. The guy nervously pulls at some strands of hair and simply nods, then turns away.

“Excellent, _excellent_ choices, Dallon, you tall, handsome drink of water,” Alex says. He’s leaning back in his chair now, with his feet up on the low wall around the DJ booth. He lazily dangles the mic near his face and Gabe thinks that he looks like the epitome of the word ‘asshole’. He has to keep himself from laughing as Alex and Dallon exchange a flirty gunshot-point and a wink, respectively. Alex then turns his attention to his two victims onstage.

“So tell me, comrades, what are your names?”

Gabe speaks first. “I’m Gabe,” he says, mostly in the direction of the brunette next to him who is looking at his shoes.

“Gabriel, mi amigo. Mi pene…es…un gato.” Alex slurs out some random Spanish that he probably only remembers from some random utterings Gabe has made throughout the school year. Gabe grins uncontrollably and has to look away for a second to compose himself.

“You want me to tell you what you just said?” Gabe chuckles. Alex, however, keeps a completely straight face as if he’d just spoken the Lord’s word in Spanish rather than…well, something else.

“Maybe later, babe. I’m workin’,” he says. “You can speak dirty Spanish to me all night tomorrow night, okay?” Gabe and the crowd all laugh. The other boy on the stage even cracks a smile. And speaking of whom…

“And how ‘bout you, handsome?” Alex now asks him. At that last word, Gabe is taken by surprise by how quickly his smile fades and a strange feeling of _I saw him first_ comes over him, even though he knows Alex is straight. It’s the principle of the thing. The boy shuffles closer to the mic and adjusts it.

“I-I’m William.”

William. At last, Gabe knows his name. Now just to get him to loosen up a little. He smirks.

“Nice to meet ya, William,” Alex says. He puts his feet down and picks up what looks like an enormous binder. It’s got a shitload of papers in it and he flips through them, scanning. “Let’s see what song I have for you…”

There’s a brief silence while Alex is flipping through his binder until:

“Oh, here’s a good one!” He looks up at Gabe over his sunglasses, a knowing glance. Then he presses a button and music starts to play.

Oh. Hell. Yes.

Gabe can’t help but start nodding when he hears the intro to Same Blood, one of his favorite songs. The band who plays it isn’t an incredibly popular one, and neither is the song (how Alex even has a karaoke version of it handy is beyond anyone’s knowledge), so the crowd sort of awkwardly moves to it, trying to get into it. It’s never a good DJ move to play a song that not a lot of people know, but Gabe appreciates the exception Alex has made for him. He knows this is Gabe’s jam. Gabe flashes a smile at Alex who nods coolly.

The words to the song flash on the television screen hanging up above the two singers and Gabe looks up at it. Even though he knows it well, he still needs to reference the words. He glances over at William on his right and he’s still looking away, but he’s moving ever so slightly with the music and no, no way. Does he know this song?

Gabe nearly forgets to start singing when the time comes. He tips over the mic stand in one swift swing and pulls it close to his face as he sings.

“ _Like a cold day in August, I was not prepared for this_.” People around them clap and cheer. Gabe has never thought he had the best singing voice, but his charm and popularity make up for it, he supposes. He stares straight into William’s eyes (or at least tries to when William occasionally glances over at him) and drags the mic stand along as he steps closer to him, getting into his space. A few whistles and woots come from the crowd. William is a violent red. “ _You think that nobody noticed the way that you still care about it..._ ” Gabe reaches a hand out at his petrified partner and makes a small ‘come hither’ gesture as he pulls his hand back towards himself. This seems to work and William breaks a smile and places a shaky hand on the microphone to adjust it again. His body turns ever so slightly to face Gabe and, good, he’s relaxing a bit. He’s getting into it.

“ _With all the people we need to love and hate, everybody makes the same mistakes. Divided by these walls, together we are lost_.” Gabe gestures to William to start singing with a wave of his hand just before the chorus comes. William appears to clear his throat, but Gabe can’t hear anything.

“ _We are the same blood, all of us we are. We are_.” William sings along with Gabe, still not referencing the words, which proves he knows it, and Gabe almost forgets to keep at it because wow, even when he’s singing sort of quiet, he has a really good voice. Consider Gabe surprised. The cheers around the room get louder as they harmonize and William’s smile gets a little bigger.

“ _While half of us were lost, the other half forgot and we are the same blood. We are the same blood. We are the same…_ ”

When it gets to the next verse, Gabe makes an ‘after you’ movement. William nods, looking more confident now, making Gabe smile.

“ _You remind me of August, the way that you still care about…_ ” William looks around at the crowd as he sings, slowly getting louder. Gabe nods along, giving him a smiling look of reassurance. “ _…All the things that you promised when I was still around. Pick you up and drive you down. We are the same blood all of us we are, we are_.” William’s got a full-blown grin on his face now as he sings with professionalism and ease and Gabe can’t help but mirror that grin. He absently notes how he likes the way he can see William’s slightly large teeth when he smiles while he sings. And the way his eyes light up when he seems to be getting into something.

The rest of the people at the party seem to approve too, clapping along to a song that probably only 10% of them know, at most. William’s unexpected stage personality seems to be the kind that can turn any song into a hit. Gabe is blown away.

They both sing the chorus over and over, Gabe getting closer and closer to William who’s now taken his microphone from its stand. William is smiling broadly now but still backs away from Gabe slowly until he ends up at the very edge of the stage. Surprise flashes in his eyes when he falls backwards for a second before the crowd catches him. Then he's pushed forward, back into a standing position...and also into Gabe's chest. Gabe is still in slight shock when William immediately pulls away, but they both keep singing nonetheless. Even so, Gabe feels a warmth in his chest for the rest of the song.

*

“You were amazing,” Gabe tells William as he hands him a mug of hot chocolate. William smiles at him and takes the steaming beverage from his outstretched hand.

“Thank you,” he says. He looks down shyly at the drink and blows on it gently. Everything he does just seems so quiet and delicate which, coupled with his long hair and beautiful eyes, leaves Gabe trying hard as fuck to wrap his head around the fact that he’s a boy.

“And you’ve never done this kind of thing before?” Gabe ducks his head to make that eye-contact again that he’s slowly becoming addicted to. He’s very skeptical that anyone could just have a natural talent like that. William shrugs and starts walking, Gabe following him close. They stroll together across the party that has since chilled out significantly and Gabe holds the door for William as they step out onto the terrace. There’s a heavy snow falling and it’s pitch black and cold, but there’s no wind and they’ve got hot mugs and their heavy coats, so it’s perfect. William laughs softly.

“No…Well, not i-in public. I guess I have practice when I’m playing music on my own, but…I’ve never really con..sidered myself a singer?” He takes a small sip of hot chocolate, the action causing most of his hair to fall forward. Gabe resists the urge to push it back behind his ear.

William swallows and makes a face that says he probably should have waited a second longer for it to cool down. “So, uh, what about you? You h-have a really good voice, too,” he says. And the smile he gives Gabe at this moment is sweet enough to give someone a cavity. “And your stage presence is great. You must be some kind of performer.” He quirks an eyebrow in a way that says he’s probably flirting trying to compliment him more than actually being curious about Gabe’s musical experience. And as Gabe continues to talk to him more, he’s starting to realize that William’s occasional stuttering isn’t because he’s nervous or confused or cold or anything, but simply the way he speaks. And Gabe finds it a lot more adorable than he probably should.

Gabe smiles. “Oh, yeah, sure,” he says sarcastically, “my shower head is very impressed by my skills.” They both laugh together before a comfortable silence. William blows on his hot chocolate again and takes another sip. Gabe does the same.

“Ten! Nine! Eight! Seven!” Suddenly, the muffled noise of everyone inside yelling in unison can be heard. Evidently, it’s nearing midnight. Usually, Gabe would be in the middle of the chanting, yelling louder than anyone else. But right now, he’s enjoying the calm silence of the night with William. They both turn and listen to everyone shouting, “six! Five! Four! Three! Two! One!!”

William startles when at that exact moment, right behind them there is an unexpected explosion of fireworks. Gabe smiles at him then looks out at the dark night that’s now decorated with red and yellow sparks. William giggles like a delighted child and turns to watch them too.

“It’s beautiful,” Gabe hears him whisper right before everyone at the party pours out onto the terrace to watch the fireworks. With the sudden change in volume and density, William looks a little flustered, but he laughs all the same, a lot more comfortable than he had been in the crowd at the beginning of the night. Gabe likes to think that it’s because of the supportive hand he’s placed on the small of William’s back.

“I should probably go find my mom,” William eventually shouts over the noise, “to wish her a happy New Year.”

“Yeah, me too,” Gabe nods. “Well, not your mom, my mom,” he corrects, “because that’d be weird if I was wishing your mom…she doesn’t even know me!” Gabe babbles. William laughs and nods – he probably couldn’t even hear half of what he just said but he found it entertaining nonetheless.

Out of the blue, Gabe gets a brilliant notion. “Oh, hey, I’ll call you!” he says. William’s face brightens even more, if that’s possible, and he starts taking out his phone immediately. Gabe gets out his own phone and presses ‘add new contact’ before handing it over to William. They exchange phones and Gabe punches in his number as well as the name ‘Gabe aka the singer guy with the nice ass’ and hands it back to William who gives him back his own phone. William laughs when he sees the name Gabe punched in and he waves the phone at him. “I’ll remember that,” he says.

“Good,” Gabe responds, then he looks down at his phone to save the new contact. “So where do you—” He looks up to ask William a question, but he’s nowhere to be found. Something in Gabe’s chest drops like a stone and he feels as though he's lost something.

And just like that, he’s gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no one ever really explains what exactly the lodge party is in the movie other than a New Years party, so I didn’t really bother with trying to explain it here either...just go with it


	2. Crime and Punishment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What you missed last time on HSM: BE: Gabe and William meet for the first time at a New Year's party. When William seems like he's not having a good time, Gabe means to change that: he bribes Dallon to pick him and his mystery boy next for karaoke. But Gabe is surprised to find that not only is William a fantastic singer, but he also has these eyes that Gabe can't look away from. And when William leaves without a trace, 'bummed out' can't even begin to describe how Gabe feels.

**G**

“And I swear to God, they could NOT have done all that in like 5 seconds. I don’t care how many layers there were…” Gabe is explaining to Jon and Brendon as they walk through the doors of the school. The familiar chatter and smells meet Gabe’s senses and it feels good to be back. Because at least when he’s at school, his dad isn’t constantly there, insisting he work on his basketball skills.

“See you at practice, boys,” Gabe’s father says with a brief wave as he walks past them. There’s a small chorus of ‘later, coach’s until he’s out of sight.

…He’s just there _most_ of the time.

Gabe sighs and shakes his head. “So as I was saying—”

“Hello, Gabe!”

Gabe has to mentally force himself not to grimace when he hears Victoria Asher’s voice behind him. Victoria has been after Gabe’s fine ass for well over two years, now, and he doesn’t know why she hasn’t taken a hint yet. Judging by the way she carries herself and speaks to others, she probably fancies herself the Queen Bee of the school. Funny thing is; barely anyone at this school pays attention to the theatre kids, let alone the bitchy star-actress. She seems immune to this fact of life, however.

“Vicky!” he says with fake enthusiasm – she hates being called that. When he turns to unwillingly greet her, Gabe sees her stepbrother Ryland hovering behind her as well and his smile falters ever so slightly, even though it’s expected that he’s with his sister 24/7. It’s like an unspoken law that even the people who make their schedules seem to go by. But as much as Gabe dislikes Victoria, Ryland is even worse. He has some weird split-personality shit that Gabe doesn’t even know the half of. He just knows that sometimes the kid will talk in a horrible English accent and have people sign his shoes if he likes them. Gabe has signed three pairs, now, out of fear of being murdered by a secret third personality.

“Hey, uh, how you been?” he asks when Victoria is clearly going nowhere, standing there smiling like if she gets the angle of her head right, Gabe just might fall in love with her this time. “I haven’t talked to you in – wow, 3 months?” Not long enough.

“I’m great!” she says, then she makes a face, “I sent you, like, fourteen messages on Facebook!” and yeah, Gabe knows. He’d read them the other night with Jon and Brendon, all of them talking about her big yachts and planes and the cities she’d been to during their break and how she wished he could have been there. About halfway into it, they had given up and watched Inception instead. DiCaprio had turned out to be decidedly more interesting than Victoria and her caviar-adorned adventures

“Really? Well, I haven’t been online in ages…”

“What have you been up to?” Victoria asks him now. Gabe uncomfortably shifts in his spot.

“Oh you know, basketball…snowboarding…more basketball,” he laughs slightly. Victoria smiles.

“So when’s the big game?”

“Two weeks.”

“Ah,” she nods, “well, I can’t wait! Go, Cobras!” she thrusts a fist in the air without vigor like she doesn’t actually have any team spirit. She probably doesn’t. Gabe laughs awkwardly and she finally winks at him and leaves with Ryland following close behind. Gabe lets out a sigh of relief and turns back to his friends who are each giving him condescending looks. Jon’s is the worst.

“What the fuck was that?” he asks him, getting straight to the point.

“I’m sorry for being nice to another human being?” Gabe retaliates, but with no venom. He looks down at their shoes. He watches Brendon’s skinny jeans and converse shift their position – he can imagine him crossing his arms as well – and hears him say,

“You should be, dude. That girl’s a witch. And her brother’s a freak.”

“Yeah, man,” one of Jon’s flip-flops moves closer to Gabe and he hears his voice close in his ear, “don’t let them think they’re your friends. It’ll only get you into a mess of trouble.”

Gabe looks up at them now to say something, but the bell for homeroom rings just as he’s about to. He supposes he can save it for later.

*

Gabe leans back in his chair, trying not to fall asleep as Mr. Mrotek (A.K.A. the Butcher) is off on one of his lectures again about who-knows-what. It’s barely ten minutes into class – into the _semester_ , even – and he’s already rolling. Gabe doesn’t know how he does it. Or what he’s talking about.

Gabe glances over at Jon to his left who is clinging to his coffee tumbler like it’s his lifeline (in all honesty, it kind of is), then back and to the right at Brendon whose face is pressed against the basketball on his desk. Gabe is gonna make fun of him for the mark that’s gonna leave on his cheek later. Brendon seems to read this on the face Gabe shoots him and he squishes his face against it more, obviously not caring. Gabe smirks and turns back around to face the front. He glances up sneakily at Butcher to make sure he’s not looking before slipping his phone out of his pocket.

He scrolls down his list of contacts until he finds the name ‘William with the eyes’ (he helpfully edited that name later on) and selects it to send a text.

**W**

“ _HEY, HEY, YOU, YOU, I DON’T LIKE YOUR GIRLFRIEND. NO WAY, NO WAY, I THINK YOU NEED A NEW ONE.._ ”

Avril Lavigne starts belting out lyrics in the middle of William’s homeroom class and he feels his face turn bright red. Millions of regrets form in William’s head: he regrets not turning his phone on silent. He regrets choosing such a girly ringtone. He regrets not being homeschooled. Well, so much for making a good impression at a new school. Since he’s going to get caught either way, at this point, he takes out his phone to see just who is texting him at the freaking most perfect time. Everyone else around him seems to take a sneaky look at their phones, too, just to make sure they’re off, he supposes.

“Ah,” the homeroom teacher says, looking up from his book, “the cellphone menace strikes again.” At this, he goes to his desk and pulls out from under it a metal bucket with a horrid drawing of a flip phone on it. Then he starts going around the room, holding it out to everyone whose phone he sees. Which is basically everyone’s. They all reluctantly drop their phones into the bucket.

“Everyone whose phone is out has 20 minutes detention with me, after school,” he says. “Miss Asher and Mr. Blackinton, phones. And I will see you in detention.”

William gets his phone to stop going off and finally finds out who sent him a message: Gabe. He can’t help the smile that comes over his face, but he doesn’t even get the chance to read the message when Mr. Mrotek comes up to him.

“We have a strict no-phone policy at this school, Mr. Beckett. So I will see you in detention, as well.” William sheepishly places his phone in the bucket and Mr. Mrotek walks over to his next offender, a boy with an odd dotted mark on his face that probably came from the basketball on his desk. Mr. Mrotek turns back, though.

“And welcome to Midtown High,” he says, sarcasm dripping from him like a leaky faucet. Then his attention is turned back to one of the kids in the front row. “Gabe Saporta!” he says with very little surprise in his voice. At the name, William sits up straighter. It’s just a coincidence. Gabe is a very common name, isn’t it?

William leans over to see the kid in the front who is also apparently looking back at him. White teeth shine over from where he’s sitting and William knows that smile. And it’s definitely a coincidence, though not the kind he’d thought it was.

*

“You go to Midtown??” Gabe asks as William walks up to him where he’d been waiting outside the classroom for him.

“Yeah! My mom just got tran..sferred to Chicago! That’s so strange!” William can’t help the huge grin on his face. Not only because he actually knows someone (sort of) at his new school, but also because that someone is particularly…nice-looking. And friendly, as well. He's glad Gabe hadn't decided to just ignore him.

“Yeah?” Gabe mirrors William’s grin and they start walking together. The time between their class periods is oddly long and they take their time. Gabe tells him a little about the school and the teachers (“he’s called the Butcher?? That’s horrifying!”), and he eventually asks him for his schedule.

“Cool, we have a couple classes together,” he tells him, “and your next class is upstairs and the second room on the right.” He hands William back the piece of paper which he slips into his pocket.

“Thank you,” he says. Gabe winks. Their eyes linger on each other’s for a second until they continue walking. Eventually, they end up passing the bulletin board on the wall in the main hallway. Gabe seems to intend on walking by it, probably familiar with all the flyers by now, but William stops to take a look. Gabe backtracks to stand next to him.

“There’s a school musical?” William asks, intrigued. His old school wasn’t particularly fond of the arts, so they had only had a couple plays. Never anything big like this musical appeared to be.

“Yeah,” Gabe says, “it’s usually pretty good. Do you think you wanna try out?” He seems serious.

“No way,” William laughs, “I’m too new here to make a f-fool of myself at an audition just yet.” He turns to face Gabe. “But you should definitely try out.”

Gabe laughs loud enough at this to make a couple heads turn. “Oh, no no no,” he says, “no, that’s impossible.”

“What’s impossible, Gabriel?”

William jumps at the sudden voice behind them and turns to see a girl with dark hair and a pretty face, but she looks William up and down like a piece of meat that she definitely isn’t interested in buying. Like a Wallmart steak or something. William glances back at Gabe who is looking over her shoulder and around the hall like he’s expecting someone else to show up.

“Hi, there,” the girl says. Her voice is slightly rough and airy and makes William fidget uncomfortably. He can’t tell if it’s a smoker’s voice or just natural. Either way, it tears at his eardrums with each word.

“I’m Victoria,” she tells him. William is about to introduce himself when she continues, “and you’re the new boy with the obnoxious ringtone.” She smiles but it’s full of disdain.

“Vicky,” Gabe speaks up now, nearly growling and she stops to look at him. She makes a face at him that William can’t read but she looks significantly less venomous when she regards him again.

“Trying out for the musical?” she asks. William shakes his head and watches her push past him to get to the bulletin board. She pulls out a pen and scrawls the names ‘Victoria and Ryland’ under the Couples Auditions section, basically taking up the entire section with her enormous writing. She bounces back to face William.

“My stepbrother and I star in all the school productions. There’s no harm in signing up! We can _always_ use background characters.”

“We should get to class now,” Gabe says simply and sternly in a way that makes William almost shudder. Victoria looks surprised and hurt and also like she means to say ‘I’ll be back’. Then she walks off with the sound of her heels clicking on the floor. William wants to ask Gabe what that was about, but Gabe just mutters, “I’ll see you fourth period,” and leaves as well.

**R**

"Brendon," the Butcher calls with a glance up from his clipboard. Both Brendon and Ryan look up from what they're doing -- Brendon from bending over a stage prop as he paints it, and Ryan watching him do so whilst pretending to make notes on his sheet music. "You've worked diligently enough. You can go," Butcher tells him then goes off to bark at another group of kids to pick up the slack. Ryan smiles to himself, glad that now Brendon won't have to miss basketball practice. Brendon smiles too, relieved, and goes to set down his paintbrush but stops midway, seeming to reconsider something.

"Should probably clean this off," Ryan hears him mutter to himself. Then he carries it off backstage to presumably do so. Ryan giggles a little at this.

At that moment - God, just what he fucking needs - Victoria and Ryland (or Guy Ripley or whatever persona he's taking on right now) come strutting over in their usual overly-cocky and theatrical fashion. What is this, Mean Girls? Sometimes Ryan feels like they try too hard to be the stereotypical bullies you see on TV.

"Ryan!!" Victoria chirps in that friendly way she usually speaks in when she's about to say something particularly un-friendly. Ryan forces an awkward smile in her direction along with a nod of acknowledgement.

"Ryan, I wanted to talk to you about the script," Victoria tells him. She takes out a stapled set of papers from her extremely sparkly pink tote bag. Ryan gives her a confused look.

"But...we haven't even done auditions yet," Ryan begins, then realizes what exactly Victoria is holding, "and how did you get a script?" he asks accusingly. "The only person who has copies besides me is--"

"Butcher, we know," Ryland cuts in with a palm outstretched annoyingly close to Ryan's face, "who do you think gave them to us?" He cocks a condescending eyebrow and shifts on his hip in a very effeminate fashion, holding up his own copy of Ryan's script now as well.

"And come on, Ry," Ryan's eye twitches slightly when Victoria abbreviates his name, "we all know who's gonna get the lead roles." She winks along with what is trying to be a charming giggle. Ryan isn't charmed in the least.

"What'd you wanna discuss, then?" he asks through gritted teeth. He feels rage bubble in him but manages to keep it under his skin.

Victoria seems ignorant of Ryan's irritation as she tells him, "Well, you see, the main characters are two boys. But as you can see, I am a girl." She takes this opportunity to flip her shiny, dark hair. "And despite how good of an actress I am, Ryland and I feel it'd be more believable for an audience of people who know our real genders if we changed them to a boy and a girl." Ryan opens his mouth to explain how completely idiotic that is when Ryland adds his piece:

"And since the main plot isn't based majorly on the fact that it's two boys, we agreed that it wouldn't be too hard for you to change it." At that, Ryland holds out his script and gives Ryan an expectant look. He has a bit of a point, Ryan must admit. And by a bit, he means barely any. The main theme of the play is about a scandalous relationship during Regency era – two people of two very different classes becoming friends and, eventually, lovers. It could have been any pairing of people and it wouldn't have mattered immensely. The script could easily be changed to accommodate Victoria and Ryland’s request. But to Ryan, it does matter.

Just then, Ryan is temporarily distracted as he sees Brendon suddenly come out from backstage, having cleaned his paintbrush. He stops for a second to chat with Gabe Saporta who's sitting up in one of the fake prop trees and Ryan snaps back to this unpleasant conversation.

"But it's just...” he trails off a bit, “I always pictured the play with two boys, specifically..." He looks over Ryland's shoulder just in time to see Brendon wave goodbye to Gabe before hopping off the stage.

"Any particular reason why?" Victoria asks.

Ryan gazes after Brendon as he walks away towards the theatre doors then looks down at his hands on the piano keys.

"No...no reason," he mumbles as he plays a small ditty with four notes, his long skinny fingers dancing over them with grace and ease. Victoria watches him with a face that clearly shows how unimpressed she is.

Eventually, she seems to give in - sort of - and makes a move to leave.

"Just consider it," she says over her shoulder. Ryland nods before going to follow her. Ryan shakes his head and sighs, staring at his sheet music.

**G**

“Mrotek!!”

Gabe nearly falls out of the fake tree he’s sitting in when he hears his father holler across the theatre. He can feel Jon who’s inside the hollow of the tree startling awake as well.

“Dear God, what are those two doing in a tree?!”

“It’s called crime and punishment, Mr. Saporta,” the Butcher says, not looking up from whatever he’s writing.

“You two,” Gabe’s father points at Gabe and Jon, “in the gym.”

Gabe hops down from the tree and drags Jon out who is nervously clutching his coffee mug that’s been empty for close to four hours, now. His body feels heavy and he stumbles a lot as Gabe pulls him along past his father – not making eye-contact – and to the theatre doors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> basketball practice will have to wait until the next chapter..same for auditions. It was getting too long (for my preference) to find an acceptable stopping point and I want those two parts to be together. Also, Ryan's is my favorite POV to write bye


	3. The Theater Waits For No One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What you missed last time on HSM: BE: Winter break is over, and Gabe's back to school: Back to early mornings and homework, back to his dad pushing him to be the best and Victoria not taking a fucking hint, back to Mr. Mrotek's long-winded lectures and back to...William? Yeah, that's right. William's mom was transferred to the area, and now William is going to Midtown. And the first thing he notices about the school is that there's a musical going on. He seems interested, but Gabe wants nothing to do with it. But it's getting hard to resist those beautiful eyes, and even Jon knows it.

**G**

“Good thing Coach came in to save us,” Jon mentions offhandedly as he and Gabe walk down the hall towards the gym. He’s walking on his own now, fully awake, but there is still sleep pinching at his eyes. Gabe chuckles.

“Really? I thought you were enjoying your nap,” he smiles when he receives a playful punch in the arm from Jon.

“Well you sure enjoyed making googly-eyes at the new kid,” Jon replies with more distaste than expected. Gabe makes a non-committal noise at this and doesn’t comment or try to deny it because Jon isn't lying. Every few moments during their time in detention, Gabe had flashed a smile over at William across the room just because he kept thinking ‘hey, this seems like a great time to look at him again’, and each time, William seemed to have been thinking the same thought because he had already been looking at him. When Gabe caught his gaze, they had both smiled at each other. William’s eyes had sparkled, and his slightly crooked teeth had bitten his lower lip…How Jon could have noticed is beyond Gabe, but the fact of the matter is that he _had_ , and now it's awkward.

“You gonna fuck him?” Jon asks with almost disturbing seriousness.

Gabe scoffs. “What?” he asks defensively.

“Or did you already, on New Year’s?” Jon turns to look at him now, his previous expression replaced with a shit-eating grin. He was obviously expecting the shocked look now decorating Gabe's face after mentioning it.

“I have my sources,” he says before Gabe can ask and, yeah, Alex probably told him everything from the karaoke scheme to the hot chocolate because he's a sneaky little shit.

"We didn't fuck," Gabe says truthfully with his head held high it as if it was an honorable act on his part, though he's actually a bit bummed out that it never got there. Or anywhere, really.

His shoulders slump and he says hopelessly, "Dude, I don't even know if he swings that way." Jon makes a 'are you seriously this much of an idiot?' face. Gabe matches it and raises him a questioning eyebrow.

"Have you seen his ass in those girl jeans?" Jon clarifies, "even _I’ve_ thought about tapping that at least once today." And Gabe laughs at this because he knows how straight Jon is, despite the lisp, and he must be more exhausted than Gabe originally thought. He’d never say anything like that in a normal state of mind, even if he was trying to make a point.

They reach the gym doors and Jon stops with his fingers resting on the handle.

“Whatever, dude,” he says, “you know I support you no matter what.” Gabe gives him a half-joking appreciative look, “but you can’t let this guy get to your head.” He pushes open the door, now they’re met with the sound of squeaking basketball shoes and the guys shouting out plays. Jon taps a finger to his temple and gives Gabe a serious look.

“You gotta get your head in the game,” he advises. Gabe nods and they enter the gym. On their way to the locker room, Brendon jogs up to them, now dressed in his purple Cobras practice uniform.

“Dude, Coach is so pissed,” he says. Yeah, no shit Sherlock. Brendon is panting and there are beads of sweat forming on his forehead, making his dark hair stick to it. It looks like Coach had made him do laps for arriving a few minutes late.

“Does he know why we got detention?” Jon asks. Gabe shoots him a look because he’s got a sly smile on his face that he doesn’t like. Like he’s implicating something. Brendon shakes his head.

“I just told him that someone’s phone went off so we were all busted. That’s all I know, anyway.” The corners of his mouth turn down into a frown. “Why, what am I missing?” He seems to notice Jon’s expression as well. He glances at Gabe who feigns ignorance. He shrugs vaguely and looks away.

“Turns out Romeo here,” Jon squeezes Gabe’s shoulder, “was sending love letters in class.” He’s a real bitch sometimes when he’s caffeine-deprived. Brendon’s dark eyebrows nearly disappear into his hairline when he hears this. Gabe shoots a murderous glance towards Jon who doesn’t seem to notice. His eyes look unfocused, like he’s going to nod off at any second. But even so, he’s still grinning like an asshole.

“Really?” Brendon seems to consider this, “the new kid?” he hazards a guess.

“William,” Jon nods and Gabe shakes his head, though he’s not really denying it. He’s more in disbelief that Jon is just going ahead and telling Brendon all of this. Jon’s eyelids flutter and Gabe silently hopes that he’ll lose balance and fall flat on his face. He’d laugh at that.

“Yeah?” Brendon smiles up at Gabe now. He suddenly looks shorter than usual, “you like him?”

Gabe shoves his hands into his hoodie pockets. He, being taller than both of his friends, looks over their heads, pretending to be distracted, but he can see from the corner of his eye that Brendon is beaming at him like a proud parent. Proud that Gabe is so confident in himself and his lifestyle in a way that Brendon hasn’t been able to be.

Brendon has never voiced it out loud (at least, not when he was sober), but Gabe knows a severe closet-case when he sees one: kid raised Mormon who dresses like the lead singer of a pop-punk band, has a girlfriend who’s independent enough not to notice the way she and her boyfriend never really connect, and whose eyes tend to linger on guys’ asses a little longer than excusable – especially when he’s drunk. Besides, Gabe’s never seen hips like Brendon’s on any straight guy. Good thing, too, because that would just be a waste…Gabe acknowledges this in a completely un-attracted way, of course.

Gabe quickly clears away all thoughts of Brendon’s pelvic region and goes back to the question he’d asked him.

“Yeah,” he finally says, smiling, “I guess I do. I mean, it’s still too early to tell, but…he’s really great.”

“I’m happy for you, man,” Jon says. He seems sincere and Gabe can appreciate that, he guesses.

“Urie!”

At the sudden loud voice, all three boys startle, though Brendon seems to actually jump. They turn to see Coach Saporta striding towards them with an annoyed look on his face that clearly says that he just finished having a particularly irritating conversation.

“I don’t remember saying you could stop.”

Brendon mumbles a small ‘sorry, Coach’ and picks up his running again, sending a small wave back towards his friends.

“And don’t think that just because you got detention, that you two get to miss today’s practice.” Gabe’s father now stops in front of him and Jon, giving them both stern looks. They don’t say anything – just nod meekly and head to the locker room.

*

A quick change into gym clothes and one bottle of 5-Hour Energy later, Gabe and Jon are back in the gym and Jon has enough caffeine coursing through his veins to at least keep him awake through practice. They meet up with Brendon, who is now sweating profusely through his uniform, but he’s finally stopped running laps. He passes them the ball he’s dribbling and tells them that Coach said he’d be back in a minute to resume practice. He has some paperwork or something to take care of.

“So, uh,” Brendon starts after they’ve been passing the ball around in silence for a while, “that William guy. I saw him checking out the sign-up sheet for the musical a couple times today.” Gabe has to hide the smile growing on his face because it definitely wasn’t an accident that Brendon had noticed him throughout the day. “Is he into that kind of thing?” He bounces the ball to Gabe who catches it easily. Gabe shrugs.

“I dunno. I guess he likes music, but I don’t think he’s much of a singer.” Gabe catches the look on Jon’s face and shoots the ball towards him. It slams into his chest, startling him; a warning not to let anything Alex might have told him slip past his loose lips. It’s not like Gabe’s embarrassed or anything…It’d just be best if the least possible number of people know about it. That’s all.

“Well, it’s not like it’s a bad thing,” Brendon amends, “I mean, Sarah’s on tech crew and she’s into that stuff.”

“You know what’d be cute as _hell_?” Jon suggests, putting as much sarcasm into the word as humanly possible, “if you two auditioned... _together_.” He passes the ball back to Gabe with almost as much force as Gabe had used previously. Gabe stumbles back as he catches it, letting out a small grunt.

“I don’t think so,” is all he says.

*

During free period the next day, Gabe could be anywhere. He could be in the gym, practicing layups. He could be in the library, studying for that History test on Friday. He could be somewhere he’d usually find himself at this time of the day, and yet here he finds himself heading down the main hall of the East wing towards the auditorium, following the signs taped to the walls that say ‘School Musical Auditions’. He doesn’t know why he is…he’s just curious, that’s all. And he’s got nothing better to do, so—

“Gabemeister! Hey, wait up!” Gabe stops and turns at the sound of Brendon’s voice. He smiles at Brendon who trots over, his straight black hair flying around messily.

“Sup,” Gabe greets. He hopes he doesn’t look too suspicious. He sure feels that way…Not that there’s anything to feel suspicious about, of course.

“Not going to the gym?” Brendon asks, his dark brows furrowing. He has reason to be confused. As team captain and star player, Gabe’s expected to practice at every chance. And he usually lives up to those expectations. He just hasn’t been feeling it lately.

“No, uh, I was gonna go study for Mr. DeLeon’s test on Friday.” Gabe doesn’t quite know why he feels the need to lie to him. He shouldn’t be embarrassed for just wanting to watch the tryouts, right?

Brendon cocks his head to the side, “but the library’s down that way.” Brendon jabs a thumb behind him in the opposite direction Gabe was going.

“I needed to get my History book,” Gabe responds a little too hastily.

“Isn’t your locker upstairs?”

“I left my book in Mr. Mrotek’s room.”

“Right…”

Gabe takes one step backwards. “So yeah, I guess I’ll just—”

“No, hey,” Brendon says, following him, “I’ll go with you. I need to study, too.”

“Uh, I study better alone…less distractions, you know?” Gabe shrugs, taking another step back and Brendon stops.

“Since when do you care about studying?” he questions.

“Since…” Gabe scratches the back of his head, trying to think of something.

“You know what? The fuck ever, man. You’re acting weird, you know that?” Brendon huffs and crosses his arms, cocking his hip like a chick, “and you were totally out of it during practice yesterday.” And Gabe knows this.

During the whole practice, he’d been thinking about William, as gay as that sounds - gay in a way that Gabe usually isn’t. He’d been thinking about the way the guys had been implying that they were a couple, and how Brendon said that William had been checking out the audition list. He’d thought about doing karaoke at the party, too, and how great it had felt to sing with William. He’d even started humming to himself as he ran around the court. As a result, he had tripped over his own feet and messed up the game plays more than what could have been passed off as accidental. Gabe wants to smack himself in the face as he thinks back on it, now realizing that he’d probably looked like a lovesick loser, daydreaming his way across the court.

Gabe kind of wishes he didn’t feel as relieved as he does when he watches Brendon put his hands up in dismissal and walk away. Leave it to Mr. Closet-Case to storm off just like that. Gabe smirks despite himself. Brendon will be fine and dandy by tomorrow, he’s sure of it.

So once Brendon is completely out of sight, Gabe nearly sprints for the auditorium. He sneaks in through the side doors and sinks into one of the many empty seats to watch the try-outs. He doesn’t quite know what he’s doing here…maybe to talk himself out of auditioning. Or at least that small, stupid part of his brain that thinks he just might manage to impress William by making fool of himself. Either way, it’s definitely working, watching Mr. Mrotek’s harsh criticism of everyone’s performances.

“Just…No. Just stop. Please,” the Butcher tells the current auditioner who’s standing stiffly on the stage. In the past 5 minutes or so, Butcher has kicked off at least a dozen solo acts already…if Gabe’s counting skills are anything to go by. Which they’re not, usually, but whatever.

“Maybe…the Spring musical, Mr. Siska.”

The kid – he’s tall and skinny with some obscure band t-shirt under a nice blazer– looks like he’s about to cry as he nods sadly and hurries off the stage.

“Hey.”

Gabe nearly yelps at the sudden voice whispering in his ear but manages to keep it down to a small gasp. He turns around to see William crouching next to his seat in the isle. When did he get here? Gabe barely even cares, though, because he finds himself immediately smiling and maneuvering over to the next chair so William can sit. William takes the seat gratefully.

“You aud-ditioning?” he whispers, seemingly only half-kidding.

“Nah.” Gabe immediately brushes off the question like a bug on his arm. He feels kind of bad, though, when William’s face falls slightly at his answer.

“But, uh,” Gabe quickly tries to redeem himself, to get that frown off William’s face, “I was thinking I might…you know, next year?” This seems to work, because William’s eyes brighten and he nods happily. And without further discussion, they turn to watch the other auditions.

At this moment, Mr. Mrotek is silencing an auditioner onstage with his outstretched hand. The kid is pretty short, with a lot of Sharpie writing on his arms. His blonde hair is a mess (Gabe thinks he sees a couple feathers tied in it…the fuck?) and he’s holding a ukulele.

“Thank you, yes that’s quite enough, Christo—” he looks down at his audition list, squinting at the boy’s name, “—is that really how it’s spelled? No, just. Next?”

“The Butcher is being kind of…harsh,” Gabe notes. William nods as he lifts his feet up onto the seat, pulling his knees to his chest and wrapping his long arms around them.

Next up is a sort of chubby boy who is, nonetheless, very nicely dressed in some faded blue jeans and a stylish button-up. His hair is a silky brown, neatly combed. And even from where he’s sitting, Gabe can tell that his eyes are a piercing sky blue. The skinny kid at the piano doing the accompanying smiles at him encouragingly as he sings. He’s not bad – not off-beat like some of the previous acts, but he’s not the best singer ever.

“Mr. Smith,” Butcher interrupts him after he’s just barely started, “how many times have I told you? We need you in sound effects. You’re the only person in this God-forsaken school with a sense of timing and placement of a good sensible bell.”

Although it seems like Mr. Mrotek means well, Gabe doesn’t think this sounds like much of a compliment. The boy hangs his head sadly but not with too much disappointment. Gabe thinks that he’s probably heard this rap before. He walks off the stage and the boy at the piano calls out, “Maybe next time, Spence!”

“Alright, folks, let’s get to the duets, then,” Butcher says, taking out a new stack of papers from a folder. He sounds tired as if he doesn’t know how much more of this he can take. Gabe isn’t sure about his own stamina either. Then he glances over at William who looks so incredibly intrigued, like a kid staring into an aquarium full of colorful fish, and Gabe forgets why he didn’t want to be here.

There are only a handful of couple-auditions, and only one sticks out in Gabe’s mind: a boy and a girl who sang what Gabe thinks was an original piece; a song called…Sour Patch Kids or Lemonheads or something. The boy had a blue streak in his black hair and had played the guitar, and the girl had worn a very colorful outfit and white socks with her stilettos. They hadn’t done too badly, but the song was pretty weird and Gabe remembers how the Butcher had commented something along the lines of, “go see a counselor. Please,” and shooed them off the stage.

**R**

Ryan turns back around on his piano bench after watching the last couple’s act. He hopes that the auditions are almost over because he hadn’t realized until now that his fingers are starting to ache from playing.

“Ah,” Butcher says as if he’s just taken a refreshing sip of water, “Victoria and R—Guy. Yes, very good. Why don’t you show us all what real performers are like?” He gestures a small ‘action!’ with his hands.

Ryan looks to Victoria on his left who’s leaning against the piano, warming up her voice. “What key?” he asks her, even though he hates changing the key for people. Why can’t they just keep it the way it’s supposed to be? He’s required to ask, though, so it can’t be helped.

At that, Ryland walks up. His hair is slicked back and his posture is much straighter. He’s definitely in Guy Ripley-mode right now. He usually is when he’s getting ready to perform. Ryan has often wondered if he could disqualify Ryland and Victoria’s audition by saying he’s not in his right mind. But that would probably only get his skinny ass punctured by one of Victoria’s stilettos.

“We had our rehearsal pianist do an arrangement,” he says in that horrible English accent that makes Ryan want to rip out Ryland’s vocal cords (but to be honest, nearly everything he does makes Ryan want to cause him bodily harm). Ryland then places a boom-box on the piano with a loud thump that sends a jolt up Ryan’s spine. Victoria does nothing but make a vague noise like, ‘yeah, what he said’, then follows Ryland to the center of the stage.

“Press play!” Ryland stage-whispers irritably in that obnoxious accent. Ryan obliges.

The sound that comes from the boom-box instantly surprises him, not only because it’s loud and Ryan tends to startle easily, but also because Victoria and Ryland had told him earlier that they would be auditioning with one of the songs he wrote for the musical. The audio he hears sounds very unfamiliar.

“ _Des le premier jour, ton parfum enivre mon amour_ ,” he hears what sounds like a French children’s choir. Ryan’s in his second year of French, so he can pick out some parts that sound vaguely like the words to the original song, but he’s still confused. A pre-recorded accompaniment is relatively normal, yes – for these two, at least – but a complete remix? Ryan’s nails scratch at the edge of his seat as he watches Victoria and Ryland perform. There’s a hard beat and guitar and synthesizers coming from the boom-box with the faint sound of a keyboard playing what Ryan would have been originally. Ryland and Victoria dance stiffly to the music in a way that Ryan would personally describe as robotic. But he supposes that’s the only way to dance with so much computerized music accompanying you. Ryan sneers at the thought.

“ _My wingtips waltz across naïve wood floors. They creak innocently down the stairs_ ,” Victoria starts off. Ryan lets out the breath he was holding because at least they didn’t change the words…so far.

“ _Draaaaag melody_ ,” they harmonize, then Victoria picks back up, “ _my percussive feet serve cobweb headaches_ ,” she brings a hand to her forehead to emphasize the lyrics she sings, as Ryan brings his hand to his own forehead for entirely different reasons, “ _as a matching set of marching clocks, the slobbering apparitions that they’ve come to wake up_.” Now she and her brother clap to the beat and Ryan is getting a headache of his own just listening to this. He goes to rifle through his bag to see if he can find some aspirin, but after searching through all the pockets, he turns up empty-handed. He sighs and reluctantly goes back to listening. He turns his attention just in time to hear Ryland re-word the song to suit his and Victoria’s “needs.”

“ _As a girl_ ,” he points to Victoria in a cheesy way that probably sent Butcher’s heart a-flutter, “ _you have set your heart on haunting me forever from the start. It’s never silent_.”

He holds out his hand and Victoria takes it as they start dancing together – in a way that’s not exactly period-appropriate for when the play is set. Ryan looks over at Mr. Mrotek and isn’t shocked to see him smiling as he gazes upon the two performers, clearly unaware of their lack of attention to the script. Ryan rolls his eyes.

“ _Ever since we met, I only shoot up with your perfume…_ ” Well. That’s not very period-appropriate, either. But Ryan’s the writer. He can do whatever he damn well pleases. “ _…It’s the only thing that makes me feel as good as you do. Ever since we met, I’ve got just one regret to live through, and that one regret is you_.”

“Bravo! Bravo!” Butcher stands up at his desk and claps for Victoria and Ryland when they finish – his most enthusiastic reaction throughout this entire ordeal. They bow and start walking back to Ryan’s side of the stage. Ryland picks up his boom-box and carries it off somewhere, but when Victoria comes by, Ryan stops her.

“Hey,” he beckons her over and she rounds the piano, “great performance, really,” he lies. Victoria smiles like ‘yeah, I know’. But her face falls when Ryan adds a small ‘but’.

“But…when I wrote the song, I pictured it much slower and I just—” Victoria stops him there with a hand up. Then she places it on the piano with a smack and leans in, getting her face uncomfortably close to Ryan's. He makes a noise of confusion and surprise and scoots back on his piano bench.

"Look, Scarf Boy." Her voice is lowered to a whisper but is no less terrifying, "Ryland and I have been in school productions for 17 years, now. And…how many times have your compositions been chosen?"

Ryan gulps, "This would be the first..."

"Which tells us what?" Victoria asks in a degrading tone that makes Ryan wish he could punch her.

He hazards a guess. "That I...need to write you more solos?"

But Victoria's eyes grow dark and furious again. "No," she says, "it means that you do not offer direction, suggestion or commentary. And you should be thankful that me and Ryland are here to raise your music out of its current obscurity." She gets closer and closer to Ryan's face as she speaks and Ryan's eyes go wide. And he’s too cornered to even think about correcting her grammar right now.

"So all you need to do is write your pretty little scripts and your pretty little music, and Ryland and I will handle the rest without any kind of constructive criticism from a boy who dresses like he’s from the 1900s. Are we clear?!” Victoria shouts. The few people nearby turn their heads.

Ryan jumps. "Yes, ma'am! I-I mean Victoria."

Victoria stands up straight again and makes a noise of approval. Then she smiles her wicked smile Ryan is quickly growing sick of and skips away. Ryan takes a moment to catch his breath before starting to gather up his things.

**G**

“Any other last-minute auditions?” Butcher calls out to the empty auditorium, “Anyone at all? No? Good.” He shuts off the lamp on his desk and picks up his briefcase. Gabe lets out a small sigh – whether it’s disappointed or relieved, he’s not sure. And he’s about to leave as well, until…

“I’d like to audition, Mr. Mrotek!” William calls out, and is out of his seat and running down towards the stage before Gabe can clap a hand over his mouth and hold him back like he wants to. He makes an exasperated noise and brings a hand to his hair. _Oh God, what is he doing?_ Butcher, however, doesn’t look at William as he keeps walking towards the door.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Beckett, but singles auditions have long been over and there are simply no other partners.”

William stops at this and the look on his face is that of a sad puppy that’s been kicked. It’s a look that jabs Gabe directly in the gut and he can’t stand it. So without thinking, Gabe gets up and walks over hesitantly to stand next to William.

“I’ll sing with him,” he says. The hand he had raised falls to scratch the back of his head awkwardly. Hearing this, the Butcher turns around.

“Gabe Saporta?” he says skeptically. He looks over his glasses at the both of them, seeming to consider. The look in William’s eyes as he holds his breath is that of hope but also naïvety, and he looks more like a child than ever. Butcher looks between the two of them for a second longer, but turns around again and readjusts his briefcase in his hand as he begins to walk away.

“I am delighted by your interest, boys, but I’m afraid the theatre waits for no one. I asked for any more auditions and you didn’t answer.” He reaches the door and puts his hand on the door handle.

“But Mr. Mrotek!” William pleads. Gabe feels something pull at his heartstrings.

“Perhaps,” Butcher raises his voice now and William is silenced, “the next musical.”

And then he leaves.

William sighs and his shoulders slump. And Gabe is just about to pat his back comfortingly when there is a small yelp across the way followed by a thump. It echoes through the empty theatre and the two boys look over towards the stage. Down by the piano, papers are flying everywhere and the skinny boy from earlier is scrambling to pick them up.

Without hesitation, Gabe and William run over to the mess and start picking up papers.

“Oh, uh, thank you…” the boy says, sounding exasperated. His pageboy cap is askew over his dark brown hair. The kid fumbles a lot, and his long scarf getting in the way doesn’t help the cause, but they eventually manage to get all of his papers into a relatively neat pile, save one that Gabe is still holding. He looks down at it; it’s sheet music. It’s the first page to a song apparently titled ‘Lying is the Most Fun a Girl Can Have Without Taking Her Clothes Off; composed by Ryan Ross’. The title is scrawled messily across the top as well as the name, but the lyrics and notes dotting the page are surprisingly neat. Gabe cocks an eyebrow at the title but hands it back to Ryan who shoves it ungracefully into his expandable folder.

“Ryan Ross?” Gabe asks, curious. The boy – Ryan, apparently – looks up after readjusting his hat. “You’re the one who wrote the musical, right?” Gabe vaguely remembers hearing the name said over the announcements a few times. Ryan looks at him for a second, then nods. His big brown eyes and his quiet, timid disposition remind Gabe somewhat of a deer, looking like if either he or William moves too suddenly, he’ll run away with his metaphorical white tail for show. William steps forward now, though, with a kind smile on his face that seems to calm Ryan just slightly.

“And the song Ryland and Vicky sang? You wrote that too?” Ryan nods again.

“Well,” he mumbles, “sort of…” He looks up to meet William and Gabe’s questioning looks. “They changed some of the words for—” he shrugs, “—whatever reason. And there wasn’t supposed to be as much…” he makes a vague gesture with his hands. He has oddly long fingers, “ _stuff_ in the background.” He makes a face like he’s disgusted. Quirky wouldn’t even begin to describe this kid. Gabe wants to laugh, but decides to keep it to himself. Instead he asks, “That other song’s for the play, too?” referring to that sheet Ryan had stuffed into his folder. Ryan silently nods again, quickly reacquiring his shyness when Gabe speaks to him. Gabe can’t help but be slightly insulted by this. What’d he ever do to this guy?

“But it, uh,” Ryan laughs slightly to himself, like there’s a joke he’s not sure if he wants to share, “it got cut out from the musical because of…questionable themes.”

William’s eyes nearly pop out of their sockets at this, but Gabe busts out laughing. Without thinking, he claps the kid on the back like he would with one of his…’bulkier’ friends. And Ryan looks nearly petrified but forces himself to laugh a little.

“Hah, got a dirty mind there, man? Good to hear!” Gabe grins and William laughs a little too. And Ryan seems to be warming up a bit because after a bit he asks them, “do you wanna hear one of the songs that are in it? One that hasn’t been changed.”

William looks at Gabe who nods because why not? Ryan smiles at this and goes through his disorganized papers until he finds three pages that appear to go together. Then he sits on the bench and places the papers on the music stand to see them. William and Gabe move to stand behind him and read over his shoulder. Gabe reads the title, ‘Northern Downpour’.

Ryan starts playing the intro. It’s a pretty slow time and his fingers move smoothly across the keys. It sounds good; simple with just the piano - compared to the performance Victoria and Ryland had just done - but still complex with the multiple notes running together. Complex to Gabe, at least. Gabe squints to read some notes written next to a line circling the beginning part of the music that Ryan is probably playing right now. It says ‘open with guitar then introduce piano’. Gabe wonders silently to himself if William would be able to play this. He did say he played music, right? And Gabe thinks guitar is a safe bet.

“Now…” Ryan mumbles as he continues to play. Gabe has no idea how anyone can do that shit unless they’re a wizard or something. Maybe Ryan is one? Might explain the way he dresses. “…I’m not that great of a singer. But you guys can do it, right?” William throws Gabe a questioning look that might be suggesting they actually go along with Ryan’s ridiculous request.

“Because you wanted to audition, so…” Ryan shrugs – even though he’s still playing. What a freak. Gabe looks at William again who’s smiling now, and how can he say no to that?

“I don’t know how it goes,” William says, more apologetic than anything. Gabe, however, holds back a sigh of relief. He never wanted to audition in the first place, and he’d only offered to sing before to give William a chance to audition. He doesn’t want to sing for an audience ever again if at all possible, unless it’s karaoke and maybe he’s had a bit to drink...

“I can play the melody, too, until you get it,” Ryan offers. _Okay, you little freak of nature. That’s just great for you. You can just do everything with those weird hands of yours, can’t you?_ Gabe can feel his inner monologue growing uncharacteristically hostile. Must be nerves.

William nods and leans in to read the words on the sheet music and Ryan slows the pace of his playing just a little bit. After a second or two longer of the intro, Ryan nods to indicate that William should start singing.

“ _If all our life is but a dream_ ,” he starts off slightly behind the melody Ryan plays, but catches up gradually, “ _fantastic posing greed, then we should feed our jewelry to the sea. For diamonds do appear to be just like broken glass to me_.” Gabe looks down at Ryan who’s smiling like approves greatly, which he should. William’s voice is incredible. It’s gentle and easy on the ears, like William himself is gentle and easy on the eyes.

“ _And then she said she can't believe genius only comes along in storms of fabled foreign tongues. Tripping eyes, and flooded lungs. Northern downpour sends its love_.” William glances up at Gabe and smiles as he sings, kind of like he did when they sang together on New Year’s. “ _Hey, moon, please forget to fall down. Hey, moon, don’t you go down_.”

“ _Sugarcane in the easy morning waterv—_ ”

“ _Weathervanes_ ,” Ryan sings along to correct him. And he obviously lied before, because his voice is definitely not bad. But Gabe’s not really complaining because he gets to listen to William sing. William blushes a little when he messes up the words but keeps going.

“ _—my one and lonely_.”

Something comes over Gabe in that second between the two lines – whether it’s triggered when he reads the word ‘duet’ at the top of the page, or just from the sound of William’s voice giving anyone who hears it the urge to sing along, no one can be sure. The only thing we can be sure of is that Gabe pipes up without warning and starts singing the next verse, taking both William and Ryan and even Gabe himself by surprise.

“ _The ink is running toward the page. It's chasing off the days. Look back at both feet and that winding knee_ ,” he stumbles a bit on Ryan’s little tongue-twister, but not too much, “ _I missed your skin when you were east. You clicked your heels and wished for me_.”

Gabe looks up and locks eyes with William for a brief second. He doesn’t quite know what he’s trying to convey through the look he gives him, but he still hopes he gets the message. The smile he returns him makes him think that he does.

“ _Through playful lips made of yarn, that fragile Capricorn unraveled words like moths upon old scarves. I know the world's a broken bone, but melt your headaches, call it home_.”

“ _Hey, moon, please forget to fall down_ ,” even after only just learning the song about a minute ago, William seems to have learned it well enough to harmonize with Gabe at this point, “ _hey, moon, don’t you go down_.” Gabe’s breath is almost taken away by how well their voices seem to mesh.

“Mr. Saporta! Mr. Beckett!” All three boys jump when they hear Mr. Mrotek call across the auditorium out of nowhere, just as they were getting to the chorus. Ryan’s hands slam down on the keys and make a very displeasing noise.

“You have a callback,” The Butcher says. William and Gabe stare in astonishment. “Ryan, work with them to get their singing up to par. Callbacks are in a couple weeks and I won’t tolerate them being unrehearsed.”

At that, he walks out, a smug smile on his face as he glances at the surprised teens over his glasses.

Ryan seems to kick into motion for the first time as a big grin spreads across his face. He starts rummaging through his bag, babbling things about schedules and rehearsals and “if you want, we can practice at my house. I have a piano there…”

William seems more than delighted about this. He places a hand on Gabe’s arm, squeezing. Gabe turns his head and they exchange smiles, though William’s is significantly more enthusiastic. Then when William goes back to listen to Ryan’s excited rambling, Gabe’s smile disappears. Oh God. He was not planning on this. What is he going to tell the guys?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t even know why I made Jon dependent on coffee…Like, I heard somewhere that he liked Starbucks, and it started out with me just needing something for him to hold in homeroom because I gave Brendon the basketball, but it eventually escalated into this?? Whatever


	4. Hottest Thing Since Global Warming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What you missed last time on HSM: BE: Despite fearing what his friends might think, Gabe skips an opportunity to practice basketball and instead heads to the auditorium to watch the auditions. The Butcher seems hard on all the performers (except Ryland and Victoria, of course), but is apparently not as tough as Gabe and William had originally thought when he gives them a callback after kind-of-sort-of auditioning. Gabe doesn't want to let William down, but he has no idea how he's going to keep this from his friends.

**V**

“Callbacks??” Victoria stands there staring at the bulletin board and fans herself with both hands, hyperventilating. Ryland tries to calm her down by squeezing her shoulder.

“What the _hell_?!” Victoria throws her balled fists down to her sides, “who in the name of Liza Minnelli could have gotten a callback?” She swiftly turns to face Ryland, looking for him to agree with her. She points at him and he flinches slightly. “You were there!” she says. “We were both watching the auditions! Everyone was awful!” People start to stare as they walk by the two of them, but let them stare. There’s no such thing as negative attention in Victoria’s eyes.

“Are you sure it’s for the lead roles?” Ryland asks her. She nods with exaggerated hopelessness.

“You look,” she covers her eyes with her hands and turns her back to the board, “I can’t.” Ryland shrugs, shaking his head and looks up at the list.

“Callbacks for the roles of Tom and Mark-slash-Martha,” he reads, “Ryland Blackinton and Victoria Asher…” he takes a deep breath, “…Gabe Saporta and William Beckett.”

Victoria’s head shoots up and she peeks through her fingers warily.

“Excuse me?” she asks. Then she turns around, smiling as she rolls her eyes, “that’s a joke, right?” Ryland frowns.

“No,” he says, “I don’t even know who this William guy is.” Victoria’s eye twitches.

“I do,” she growls, “and he is so not getting the part.” She turns sharply, dark hair hitting Ryland in the face, and her heels click sharply as she starts storming off to homeroom, “not if I have anything to do with it.”

**G**

Gabe is walking towards his next class, minding his own business, when all of a sudden, he feels a heavy force on his shoulder, pushing him into the lockers and making him drop his backpack.

“Oof!” he manages, and he’s ready to shove the asshole right back, when he locks eyes with Jon.

“Callbacks, dude?” Jon angrily whispers, “really?” Gabe’s eyes get wide. How did Jon find out already? But it doesn’t matter because for whatever reason, he knows. Gabe gingerly removes the hand that’s gripping the fabric of his hoodie.

“Listen, man, it’s not what you think—” he starts, but Jon interrupts.

“Fucker, you know I wasn’t actually serious when I said you should audition, right?” he demands in a whisper, like people are listening in and they’re discussing some sort of government secret, “people are gonna think you’re a joke!”

“Let them think whatever they want,” Gabe says coolly, gesturing widely with his hands.

“But it’s not just you who’s getting the heat,” Jon growls, “they’re gonna think we’re _all_ singing faggots.”

Gabe’s blood boils at that last remark. He knows Jon’s not a homophobe, and he has nothing against Gabe’s lifestyle choice. He’s just angry. He doesn’t mean it as an insult. But even so, Jon needs to watch his mouth or he’s going to get a fist in it. Gabe’s dark eyes narrow as he steps threateningly closer to Jon, towering over him. Jon holds his ground.

“’I support you no matter what’,” Gabe quotes, “that’s what you said, right?” Jon shakes his head and laughs bitterly.

“Yeah, that was before I knew what this William kid was getting you into.” Gabe thinks Jon sounds like William’s getting him into drugs or murder or some shit, and not show tunes. “You know,” he then adds, “I also said not to let him get to your head, if I remember correctly. You’re letting him run your life, man.”

Gabe rolls his eyes, “Just because I do a stupid callback—”

“Exactly! Stupid!” Jon gestures with a hand to his temple, “and yet you’re still doing it!”

“Why does it matter so much to you?” Gabe is getting really fed up with Jon’s bullshit. He doesn’t see why this is such a big deal.

“I don’t think you realize it yet, but your reputation is everything at this school,” Jon lowers his voice now and he sounds almost pitying, “you’ve already got the rumors about you being bi or whatever floating around, and—”

Gabe laughs suddenly, cutting him off. “Like I care!” he says, “it’s not like they’re untrue.”

“—and now that you’re doing this singing thing, your status is gonna go way down. Doesn’t that matter at all to you?”

Gabe puts a hand on Jon’s shoulder and tells him like he would a child, “There are more important things than your rep, Jon.”

Jon steps back and looks slightly apologetic, but still angry, like he wants to say something but feels like he shouldn’t. He glances down at their shoes and doesn’t respond. Gabe sighs, almost relieved because he’s finally won this argument – for now. He removes his hand from Jon’s shoulder and picks up his backpack he dropped.

“See you whenever, dude,” he mumbles before walking off.

*

Ryan said he’d be busy with something at free period that day, so Gabe goes to the gym to practice a bit, and maybe to prove to the guys that just because he’s singing with William doesn’t mean he’s gonna start slacking off as team captain. He can balance both things at once.

“Hey, look who decided to show his face!” Gabe turns around to see Jon sauntering up to him, holding out a hand. Gabe is relieved to see that Jon is smiling and doesn’t look anywhere near as upset as he did earlier. Gabe takes his hand as he approaches and they share a manly embrace.

“Aw, what happened?” Gabe hears a familiarly grating voice and looks up to see Alex balancing his skinny ass on top of the bleachers that are folded up against the wall. Since it’s free period and not actual practice, anyone can come in and watch as they please. It’s not unusual for Alex to be here being a nuisance like he does best, “did William cancel your date this morning?” He smiles a toothy grin that reminds Gabe of the Cheshire Cat, and he laughs in a way that sounds more like hissing. Gabe mocks Alex’s laughing before spitting a short, “shut up, Suarez.” Then he stalks off to the locker rooms to change, Alex’s snickering following him.

*

Gabe steps out of the locker room and onto the court feeling a bit anxious, glancing around at the other guys, wondering who all knows about his embarrassing musical escapade. Well, wait, no. Gabe shouldn’t be embarrassed about this. He’ll do whatever he damn well pleases, even if that’s singing show tunes in a puffy shirt with a guy he may or may not find totally adorable. Either way, Gabe can’t think about that right now. He has to focus. He has to get his head in the game.

“Think fast, pansy!” Gabe turns quickly and catches the orange ball just as it’s flying towards his head. He lowers his hands and looks over it to see Michael smirking at him past his stringy blond hair.

Gabe drops the ball and starts dribbling it. “Not today, Chislett,” he says.

“One day, though,” Michael lifts a hand and points at him as he winks. Gabe smiles and shakes his head. Mike’s one of the newer guys on the team, a Sophomore who recently transferred from Australia, and is always trying to one-up the captain. A bit of friendly rivalry and nothing more – though as Michael walks away, Gabe can’t help but check out the view from behind, and there may or may not be some flirting there too.

Gabe clears his throat and looks uncomfortably down at the ball he’s dribbling. He thinks hard about William to get that out of his mind, but soon realizes that that is not helping the overall intention of him being here in the first place. Head in the game. Right. He jogs off toward the other end of the court to do free throws with Jon.

*

“Dude, if we were playing Horse, you would have an entire cavalry right now.”

“How long have you been waiting to use that one?” Gabe laughs. He catches the basketball as it bounces off the rim. He passes it to Jon who gives him a look.

“Hey now, I’m clever sometimes,” he says defensively. Gabe laughs again, and this time Jon joins him.

“Hey Bren! Where you been?”

Gabe and Jon turn to look at Alex who’s hopping down from the bleachers to greet Brendon who waves at him awkwardly.

“Woah! Looks like Sarah went to town on your hair,” Alex says loud enough for it to echo throughout the whole gym. A brief silence falls over the gym as everyone turns to look. Gabe hesitates for a moment before making his way towards Alex and Brendon to see what the hell he’s talking about.

When he reaches them, Gabe’s eyes instantly fall on Brendon’s reddened mouth; something Gabe can honestly say he’s never seen on him before. Brendon is seriously the most reserved guy he’s ever met, and even though sometimes he’ll drink at parties and has smoked pot maybe once in his life, Brendon’s never had a steamy makeout session with anyone as far as Gabe knows.

“Shut up,” Brendon says as he punches Alex playfully in the arm before reaching up to flatten his hair.

“Sarah?” Gabe asks incredulously without really meaning to. But it’s not his fault that up until now, Brendon has made it seem very improbable that he and Sarah would ever do anything past hand-holding and short affectionate kisses.

But Brendon doesn’t get mad or say anything like, ‘well yeah, she is my girlfriend’. Instead, he almost looks guilty as he looks at Gabe for a second, then smiles bashfully and nods.

“Niiiice, man!” Alex claps him on the back, and Brendon sort of stumbles. Gabe raises an eyebrow and observes that Brendon’s got a distant look in his eyes, like he’s worried about something. Maybe he’s afraid he’s sinned somehow, or that he’s maybe damaged Sarah’s reputation. Whatever it is, Gabe tries to snap him out of it.

“You alright?” he asks him. Brendon blinks a few times.

“Yeah, totally!” he smiles, but Gabe doesn’t think he’s sure about that. He watches Brendon walk into the middle of the gym, now, waving at everyone around to huddle up. Everyone congregates around him, including Gabe who thinks Brendon looks slightly out of place in his jeans and red striped shirt amongst the guys in their purple uniforms. But Alex is in all black, so he’s not the only odd-one-out.

“Hey, who’s pumped for the big game in two weeks?” he asks the team who all let out small woots in response, “and who’s gonna win??” he asks a bit louder.

“Us!” the team responds.

“What team??” Brendon shouts, beginning the team chant like he always does.

“Cobras!” the team answers in unison.

“WHAT TEAM??”

“Cobras!!”

“COBRAS!”

“FANGS UP!” Everyone puts up the school team’s hand symbol that looks vaguely like a gang sign – one hand splayed behind the other that’s bent to look like a snake’s fangs.

Everyone cheers and high-fives each other before breaking up and going back to practice. Brendon smiles to himself and nods to Gabe as he heads to the locker room.

**R**

Ryan breathes in the toxic scent of the bleach and other cleaning supplies surrounding him as he sits on the floor of the janitor's closet. Right now he feels used. He feels secondary. But at the same time, he feels content with being just that.

He rubs the tips of his fingers gently on his lips that still feel raw, and he misses the heated touch that had been there only moments before. The strong hands on his arms, his sides, in his hair. He wishes it could have lasted longer and not have been cut short by the apparent necessity of basketball practice. Ryan rolls his eyes. But he smiles nonetheless.

Outside the closet he's sitting in, out in the hall, Ryan can hear the muffled voices of some kids chatting incessantly. A dull, constant murmur he has become sick of over time. He gently puts pressure on the unlatched door with the back of his hand. The crack between the door and the frame widens just slightly and he squints into the light that falls on his face. When his vision clears, Ryan can see a small group of girls -- one of them being Sarah. _The_ Sarah.

“Have you guys, ya know, gotten to second base yet?” one of the girls asks her suggestively, wiggling her eyebrows. Ryan feels nauseous at the very thought. Sarah laughs and holds both hands up dismissively.

“No way!” she laughs, “he wants to take it slow...and I'll respect that. There's no rush.”

He may be used and secondary, but that can't take away the fantastic feeling of superiority Ryan feels when he hears this.

Sarah holds her chin up now. “I actually think it's rather noble of him,” she says, “it proves that he cares about me and not just our physical relationship.”

 _The only thing it proves is that he can't bring himself to like a girl that way_ , Ryan thinks to himself. But even so, knowing this doesn’t help the fact that it’s still her those girls are asking about Brendon.

Ryan hooks his two fingers under the door and pulls it closed again. Then he leans his cheek against his raised knees and waits until the girls’ voices disappear down the hall.

**G**

After school, there’s no basketball practice on Wednesdays, so instead Gabe anxiously nibbles on his fingernails as he zones out in the middle of callback practice with William and Ryan. William’s got a dark blue acoustic guitar balanced on his thigh – Gabe had been right about that – and he and Ryan are discussing chords and bars and things that Gabe doesn’t know a whole lot about (except for one point in their conversation when William had mentioned the word ‘fingering’ and Gabe’s ears had perked up at that), so he’s leaning back in his plastic chair and thinking about what the guys on the team had said.

“Gabe?”

Gabe snaps to attention, slapping his hand down to his lap. William is looking at him like he’s gravely concerned, which warms Gabe’s heart. Ryan looks bored and maybe a bit fed-up.

“You’ve been r-really quiet this whole time,” William tells him. He sounds vaguely like a mother who’s worried about her child. Gabe hadn’t noticed how quiet he’s been, but now that he thinks about it, he really has. He honestly can’t remember the last thing he actually said since he came to the band room for practice. “Is something bothering you?” William asks him now.

Gabe runs a hand through his hair. He sighs. “Yeah, but…it’s just that the guys…they know we’re doing this,” he looks at William and Ryan for some sort of reaction. Nothing. Except for maybe Ryan’s irritated stare, but Gabe thinks that might just be his face, “and…they think it’s kind of gay.”

William looks like he’s going to say something, but Ryan beats him to it, letting go a bitterly sarcastic laugh. Gabe lifts an eyebrow at him, having no idea what’s so funny.

“’The guys’ as in the basketball team?” he clarifies, seemingly unfazed by Gabe’s questioning look. Gabe nods.

“Heh,” Ryan laughs, “so, like, Jon Walker? Alex Suarez? _Brendon Urie_?” He lists them all like a bunch of celebrities or something, using their last names.

“Well, Alex isn’t technically on the team,” Gabe corrects him. Being the mascot hardly constitutes as being a part of the team, but he’s good friends with most of the team members, so he might as well be, “but yeah, Bren and Jon and Michael and shit.” He’s confused when Ryan rolls his eyes and he’s not quite sure what Ryan’s getting at by putting emphasis on who all is on the team, but Gabe’s never been good at that kind of thing, so he lets it go. Instead, he turns his attention William who looks even more worried than he had before.

“Does this mean you want to quit?” he asks, and Gabe can’t help but snort at this.

“Hell no!” he says, “if you think I’m gonna quit because I’m afraid of what those guys think,” he jabs a thumb over his shoulder, then he smiles broadly, making William smile back, “then you don’t know me.”

Gabe and William smile at each other in silence for a few seconds longer until Ryan clears his throat uncomfortably.

“So…” he rearranges his sheet music, “do you wanna do a quick run-through then call it a day?”  
The two boys quickly snap out of it and nod awkwardly, murmuring their agreement.

**V**

The clicking of Victoria’s heels echo around the empty hall as she heads towards the doors with Ryland in tow. She has just finished retaking a test and is now heading home (Ryland had to stay as well because Victoria drives them both to school), but right as she passes the band room, she hears music. Good music. She stops, turns her head towards the closed door. Good music she’s not singing. Ryland stumbles to a stop just as Victoria turns a sharp left and gets up close to the door, pressing her ear against it. She listens closely to the slightly muffled but no less melodic voices coming from the other side.

Suddenly, she spins around to face Ryland, pressing her back and the palms of her hands against the door. She stares Ryland down, terror in her eyes. She recognizes one of the voices very well, having listened for it many times in the hallway and at parties and what-have-you. Ryland returns her frightened look.

“Is it them?” he whisper-shouts. Victoria nods exasperatedly. She pushes off the door and starts off towards Ryland then walks past him in a rage.

“They’re good,” she tells him as she passes, “really good.”

**W**

“I’m home!” William’s mother calls as she shuffles backwards through the door, dragging bunches of white plastic bags along with her. She kicks the door closed once they’re all inside and she hangs up her purse and her coat by the door.

“Hey! How was work?” William smiles as he shuffles into the foyer from the living room and immediately goes to grab some of the groceries for her.

“Not bad,” his mother says, “the usual. How was school?” She carries the rest of the bags into the kitchen, following after William.

William smiles bigger, thinking about the exciting news he wants to tell her, but he hesitates to speak as he sets the bags on the counter. He can’t decide in his head whether or not his news about the musical would necessarily be good news to her. He’s not as oblivious as his mom might think; he can see the worried way her brow wrinkles when he says or does things that aren’t particularly…manly. She’s insisted that he join sports teams, tried to set him up with her friends’ daughters in whom he’d shown no interest…and as she persists and fails, he can tell that she’s struggling to remain ignorant of his sexual preference. And telling her he has decided to audition for the musical isn’t really going to help that, he thinks.

“Not completely horrible,” he tells her, shrugging. He balances a stack of soup cans and steadies them with his chin as he heads toward the cabinet. His mother moves quickly to get the door for him.

“That’s good,” she says with a smile, “Have you made any new friends?”

“A couple.” William tries to stay vague. He knows himself well enough to know that if he gets going on a topic, he usually can’t stop. He’s still on the fence about telling her about the callbacks and Gabe just yet, and he doesn’t want anything to accidentally slip out while he’s still not sure.

“Oh?” William’s mom finishes taking all the groceries out of the bags and starts bunching the bags up to be reused later, “I’m glad to hear it.” Then she seems to drop the topic as she bends down to put the bags in the cabinet under the sink. William sighs to himself in relief and continues putting away the groceries.

“I noticed you brought your guitar to school today.”

William’s head drops in frustration. Dammit. Almost. He turns to face his mother just as she’s standing up and he nods a little too much.

“Yeah, I…I was collaborating with my friends after school for a bit.” Not a total lie, right?

“ _Collaborating_?” she echoes. Her eyebrows are raised in surprise, and the way she repeats the word makes it sound more like he’d said ‘curing cancer’ or ‘feeding starving Africans’ or the like. “Are you forming a band or something?” she asks now. William puts away one last box of cereal and doesn’t look at her as he mutters, “Something like that, yeah.”

He makes a move to leave, but he still hears her when she giggles and says, “You better watch out, then. Girls are suckers for boys in bands.”

William stops involuntarily in the doorway when he hears this and he turns around to look at her. The look on her face tells him nothing of what she might be thinking in regards to what she’d just said; whether she knows how unappealing that notion is to him – if she’s maybe trying to change his thoughts on the matter, get it in his head that she thinks it’s wrong for him to not like girls – or if she is actually completely unaware. He can’t read her expression whatsoever.

“Yeah,” he laughs with little emotion. Then he turns and finally leaves with no further discussion.  
Maybe it’s not quite time yet.

**V**

Victoria absently taps her feathery pink pen on the counter, the look on her face not hiding her intense boredom in the least. It’s math class and every word that comes from Miss Berg’s mouth is all garbled number stuff that Victoria couldn’t care less about. She would much rather be doing Pilates or looking at expensive shoes online, but no. She has to sit here and pretend to absorb information that she’ll never use again. Because who in theater ever uses the quadratic equation for anything? That’s right, no one. Especially not an esteemed actress like Victoria. Or the esteemed actress she will be in due time, at least.

She watches Miss Berg with little and steadily dwindling interest as she writes a mix of letters and numbers on the white board that she doesn’t understand.

“ _That should be sixty-four_.”

Victoria looks over to the seat next to her when she hears its occupant muttering something. She almost jolts back when she sees him, though, because she’d had no idea that she sat next to William Beckett in this class, of all people. He’s leaned forward, tapping his lower lip with the eraser end of his pencil and he looks both thoughtful and apprehensive, like he wants to say something but isn’t sure if he should.

Eventually, he raises his hand and Miss Berg looks in his direction.

“Yes, uh…” she glances down at her seating chart, “William?”

Once he’s called on, he instantly looks terrified, like he wishes he’d never raised his hand. Victoria wrinkles her nose and wonders how someone like _him_ could handle a lead role.

“It’s just…eight squared is s-sixty-four. You wrote sixteen. A simple mistake, but…” he shrugs and sinks down into his seat. Miss Berg looks surprised and turns around to check her work. She had, in fact, written ‘16’.

“Oh, of course. Thank you, William,” she says before grabbing her eraser. William smiles bashfully and focuses intently on scribbling a dark circle in the corner of his paper. Victoria watches him, confused. She wonders what the Butcher could have possibly been smoking when he decided to give this kid a callback. How will he manage speaking lines if he can barely say four words to his teacher? Does he have some weird secret charisma that he doesn’t let anyone else see? Did he do plays at whatever school he used to go to? So many questions, and none can be answered by sitting here, staring at him as he doodles ugly pencil drawings. The bell for free period rings and Victoria decides it’s time to do some research.

*

“HE’S A NERD, RYLAND!” Victoria squeals. Some other people in the library turn and glare at the two of them, but she doesn’t pay them any heed.

“Well, duh,” Ryland snorts, rolling his eyes. Victoria twirls to look up at him from her seat in front of the computer.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she demands loudly. A chorus of hushes come from around the library and Victoria shoots them all vicious glances.

“He’s in my AP English class,” Ryland explains. “He’s always correcting Mr. Wilson’s grammar and telling him all about the books we’re reading because he’s already read them four times over.” He scoffs, then he looks at the page Victoria has up on the screen.

“Looks like our little William excels in a lot of subjects,” Victoria smiles sneakily as she scrolls down the news page she’d found after Googling William’s name. “It says here that back in Ohio, he was the star of his school’s Scholastic Decathlon team.”

“And…” Ryland leans forward, balancing himself with a hand on the back of Victoria’s chair, “…this concerns us how?”

Victoria smiles as she hits a couple buttons and the printer nearby starts flashing and making noises. She giggles a little to herself. “We’re going to bring William back to his former glory,” she tells him. And with that, she pulls the newly printed page from the printer and gets up, grabbing her purse.

**W**

William is putting some books into the top of his locker, humming happily to himself. It’s already Friday and he’s enjoyed his first few days at his new school, made a couple new friends, one in particular being very…special to him. Well. Nothing’s happened at all, but he’s getting there…Very slowly. William turns to take a look in the small magnetic mirror on the door of his locker. He frowns at his reflection and pulls at a couple strands of his unmanageable brown hair. He likes it long, but it gets so wild. He thinks he looks like Tarzan half the time. He sighs. Gabe must find that super attractive, huh?

William’s distracted from his self-pity when he sees in the reflection, a girl with long wavy hair and a loose green shirt who looks like she just came from a Free Love and Veganism convention. The girl appears to be heading straight for him, holding a couple pieces of paper and smiling hugely at him. He spins around to face her as she closes the distance between them. She basically hops into place in front of him and beams as she says, “the answer is yes!”

William is surprised by her outburst and steps back slightly. “What?” he asks her. She must have the wrong person. William’s never spoken to this girl in his life, let alone asked her any questions.

“The application you left in my locker? For the Scholastic Decathlon?” she shows him the papers she’s holding: one looks like what she’d mentioned, some sort of application. And the other looks like a print out of an article from the Akron Beacon journal…the article about William’s achievements while competing on his old school’s Scholastic Decathlon team. William steps back one more time, bumping his locker door a bit with his elbow. Where in the world did she get that? That was, like, two years ago, at least. William looks her up and down, wondering if she’s some sort of creepy stalker. Then he remembers what she’d said.

“I didn’t put th-that in your locker,” he tells her. She looks surprised, glances down at the papers in her hand, then looks back up at him and smiles even brighter.

“Oh,” she says, “well, we’d love to have you, anyway!” William blinks at her. She doesn’t seem to be bothered by the fact that some anonymous person is apparently trying their hardest to get William on the team, while William himself is still glancing around, terrified that he might have an obsessive creeper on his hands with a thing for smart kids.

“I’m Cassie, by the way,” the girl introduces herself. She flips some of her brown waterfall of hair back over her shoulder then holds a hand out for William to shake. William takes it apprehensively, smiling nonetheless, “and I’d be honored if someone like you would take the position. We really need another member, and you’re more than perfect for our team!” she cheers, shaking William’s hand harder than any man probably ever has. When she finally lets go, William sighs.

“I don’t know,” he says, “I mean, I’m still kind of new here. I’m not sure if it’s a good idea…”

At that moment, out of absolutely nowhere, a girl dressed in pink from head to toe (except, of course, her midnight black hair) shows up next to them, smiling like they’re all great friends. She hikes her pink tote bag higher up on her shoulder. William looks at her just-so pretty face and he recognizes her as that girl who’d spoken to him before…Vanessa or Valerie or something.

“I think it’s a _great_ idea!” she says, and William wonders how she could possibly know what they’re talking about. He sends her a nervous side-glance that she doesn’t appear to notice, “joining a club first thing! It’ll keep you busy, introduce you to some new friends!” she cheerily looks between William and Cassie, and Cassie looks at William and nods eagerly, coaxing him to say yes. William sighs again and twists some hair around his finger.

“I’ll…I’ll think about it,” he finally says, which is pretty much a reluctant yes.

The girl in pink smiles sneakily at the both of them before stalking off, but William is too distracted by the loudness of Cassie’s happy squeals to really notice.

“Oh, thank you!” She claps her hands and basically hops up and down, “you won’t regret this! You know what?” she moves next to William and links their arms, “let’s have lunch together! Get to know each other better!” And with that, she tugs William along with her down the hall, barely giving him any time to shut his locker.

“Uh, okay,” he manages, stumbling along.

*

“We usually meet on Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday,” Cassie explains, counting on her fingers as she and William walk together around the school campus. The lunch period is 50 minutes long – nearly an hour! William is still completely astounded by how much free time the students are given at this school, in comparison to the last one he went to – and they have some time to spare after having eaten already, “usually not Friday, and we’re always willing to work around people’s schedules. Weekends, we’ll sometimes throw study parties,” she turns and rests a gloved hand on William’s skinny arm and smiles up at him brightly. The cold wind blusters her hair around her glowing face and William thinks she slightly resembles a fairy in this moment, “they’re a real blast!” William nods and smiles awkwardly back. Cassie’s cheeriness might be a tad overwhelming, but he’s not complaining that someone seems so keen to talk to him. This is the first lunch period he hasn’t spent alone – Gabe always sits with his basketball buddies, and although he and Gabe always exchange silent greetings at noon each day, William hasn’t yet had the courage to go over there. On top of that, William’s only recently become acquainted with Ryan, and not enough to know where he hides away during this time of day – so he’s grateful to have some kind of human contact during probably the longest period of the school day.

“You shouldn’t have to worry about w-working around my schedule,” William tells her, “I don’t have much of a s-social life.” He chuckles, maybe a bit sadly.

“Oh! Really?” Cassie asks, strangely intrigued, “I would have thought otherwise!” William quirks an eyebrow, confused. “What with the play and all,” Cassie explains.

“Oh,” William’s eyes widen. He’d nearly forgotten about that. He shoves his hands deeper in his coat pockets and smiles down at his feet, “well, I don’t know if I’m even gonna get the part.” He shrugs, and Cassie makes a sound that seems to say ‘whatever’. She adjusts her wool beanie to cover her ears better and they keep walking.

They walk past a group of guys all sitting around a table, a few of them wearing letterman jackets, most of them shouting swears and making obscene gestures to each other and the people that pass by: Gabe’s crowd. There are also a precious few girls around them whose outfits and body language suggest to William that they don’t exactly hang out with the jocks because they’re interested in sports.

Cassie turns her nose up at the group as she and William make their way around the table, but William can’t help but crane his neck to find one person who’s a lot taller than the rest of them and is grinning with all his brilliant white teeth. William feels his heart rate pick up when Gabe’s eyes meet his and he nods in his direction as a small hello. William smiles bigger than he probably has all day and awkwardly runs a couple fingers through his bangs as he turns away. God, he hopes he’s not blushing too much. He can definitely feel some heat in his cheeks. And he feels like he’s always super obvious whenever they’re around each other, however irregularly. William wants to punch himself sometimes. He can get so lovesick, so easily.

He bites his lip and tries to get this stupid tingling to go down, but when he looks over at Cassie, it seems that she’s already noticed what happened. She’s looking at him with a question on her face, but seems unsure of what exactly she should be questioning.

“Uh,” William clears his throat, “this might sound weird, but…what can you tell me a-about Gabe Saporta?”

For the first time since William’s met her, Cassie seems almost bitter as she laughs to herself at the mention of Gabe’s name.

“Well, why don’t I just let these lovely ladies over here tell you?” she gestures at a small group of girls standing off in the lightly snow-covered grass, very ‘casually’ glancing over at Gabe’s table and giggling every 10 seconds. Cassie speeds up her pace, pulling William along with her, and they walk up to the group of girls who instantly become silent as they approach.

“Oh my God,” Cassie says as she pushes her way to the middle of the group, “isn’t Gabe, like, the hottest thing since Global Warming??” William listens from outside the gathering of chatty girls and steps back in surprise when they all suddenly squeal in unison at Cassie’s words. He watches as Cassie wiggles her way out of the miniature mob before dusting herself off and looking up at William expectantly.

“So yeah, that’s basically his rep throughout the whole school,” she explains almost boredly as they pick back up on walking in step, “the super-hot basketball star. All the girls melt in his presence.” She waves a hand lazily in the air, “and he and his friends rule this school with their big shiny sneakers and their parties and their D-plus-averages.” William listens in silence as she goes on, degrading Gabe and his friends, and he wonders if he’s really gotten to know Gabe as well as he thought he had.

“You don’t know that for sure, though,” William mumbles, “right? They may not have fantastic grades, but they could still be decent people.”

At that moment, behind them William and Cassie hear Alex Suarez shouting across the lawn, “Yo, Wentz! Your mom said to tell you congratulations for not wetting the bed anymore! Then we had SEX!” followed by a chorus of roaring laughter from the rest of the table. Cassie gives William a look and he only sighs and shakes his head.

“But I have to admit,” Cassie says eventually, “I’m impressed that you got Gabe to audition with you…was it a prank or something?”

“Oh,” William slows his pace, worry suddenly forming in the back of his mind, “is it really that weird? Are…are people, like, talking about it?”

“No, no!” Cassie reassures him, “well, not yet anyway.”

William stops altogether at this and pales. Yet? Is this really such a huge thing that it’s gonna be next week’s hot topic? “Shit,” he says. He knew in the back of his mind that auditioning would get him attention that he didn't particularly want, but he’d done it anyway. He’s beginning to realize that that little voice in his head might actually have some sense.

Cassie laughs a little at his reaction. “People at this school are so shallow,” she says, which doesn't help much in making William less paranoid, “and once it gets around that their teen heartthrob is doing something like the school musical, well,” she shrugs. William holds his breath as she pauses, waiting to hear what exactly people will do once they hear about it, “they’re not gonna know what to do with themselves.”

At that moment, the bell rings and people start hustling to get inside. Cassie smiles sweetly and waves at William before walking away, leaving him standing on his own in the cold, wondering what the fuck he’s gotten himself into.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is no practice on Wednesdays, according to me. And it is a well-known fact that all I say is law. On a different note, Victoria storms off a lot. It’s very dramatic, you see, and a well-seasoned actress such as herself must adhere to a sufficiently dramatic lifestyle, with lots of hand flourishes, gasping and the like.
> 
> Jon is a bit of a dramallama and I apologize.


	5. Gotta Hit Up Macy's

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> what you missed last time on HSM: BE: Rumors spread throughout the school about William and Gabe's callback for the musical. Jon crosses the line, indirectly calling Gabe a faggot, but appears to become accepting after Gabe shows him he's being a real shitty friend. But just after he's gotten Jon on his side, it seems that Ryan might have something against Jon and the rest of the team, but Gabe isn't sure what.
> 
> William is dealing with some of his own issues as well: He's been getting weird looks around school for getting the callback, and now he's suddenly been recruited onto the Scholastic Decathlon Team by the overly chipper Cassie. And on top of all this, his mom still doesn't know about the callbacks and remains ignorant to her son's sexuality.

**G**

“N-no. No, God. I can’t believe y-you talked me into doing this.”

Gabe fumbles with William’s hands, grabbing them as he keeps trying to get away from Gabe who’s ushering him towards the big glass doors of the shopping mall where their friends – well, Gabe’s friends, mostly – are waiting for them. Gabe had planned a little hangout for him, William, Brendon, Jon, and even Ryan who had seemed reluctant to go, but Gabe had mostly invited him out of politeness and maybe a little pity.

“Aw, c’mon Bilvy, you’ll be fine,” Gabe laughs as he finally gets a firm grip on both of William’s wrists and holds them by the small of his back, directing him across the parking lot from behind. Gabe thinks they must look like a pretty odd couple – either that, or a kidnapping – but he’s too excited right now to care a whole lot.

“They’re not gonna like me,” William mutters, mostly to himself, “they’re gonna think I-I’m quiet and weird and have girly hair like people always do…And d-don’t call me Bilvy, freak.”

“Then don’t be quiet and weird,” Gabe suggests, not really succeeding in sounding supportive. And he quietly ignores William’s last statement.

“What about my hair?” William turns his head a bit to try and look back at Gabe who’s still leading him from behind by his wrists like he’s arresting him.

“I like your hair,” Gabe smiles as he murmurs into William’s ear. William doesn’t say anything to that, but he smiles shyly when Gabe lets his arms go and steps ahead to hold the door for him.

When they get inside, Gabe is quickly able to spot Jon standing next to a fake tree in the pathway across from Bath & Body Works, along with Brendon, and someone else on the other side of Jon, staring at his shoes. He’s got short brown hair and a super weird vest over a tee shirt…No. Ryan?

“Ryan?” Gabe questions out loud, and William cocks an eyebrow at him.

“Well yeah,” he says as if Gabe had asked something obvious like ‘the sky is blue?’, “you invited him, after all.”

Gabe’s voice drops to a whisper as they get closer to their friends, “Well I didn’t think he’d actually _come_ ,” he tells him, and William giggles quietly.

“Hey!” Brendon says when he sees Gabe and William walking over. He sounds hurried and almost desperate as says it, like he’s got some urgent news, and he quickly closes the distance between them. He throws a quick, worried glance over at Ryan who looks like he’s about to vomit, quite honestly.

Gabe catches the look and nods, understanding. “I know, man. But he’s cool, okay?” he reassures him, “trust me.”

But the look Brendon returns him makes Gabe think that it’s not as okay as he thought, but Gabe also thinks Brendon’s being a bit overly dramatic. I mean, sure the basketball team doesn’t usually hang out with kids from the drama club, but it’s not the same as, say, a nobleman chillin’ with his servants in the kitchen or some shit. Times have changed and Gabe thinks people cling way too hard to their social statuses. But that’s why he organized this whole thing in the first place: he’s sure that by the end of this, the guys will see how cool and totally normal William and Ryan are. Or just William, at the very least.

Ryan quickly scurries over to stand next to William, deliberately angling his path far from Brendon who watches him almost suspiciously. Gabe holds back an eye-roll. This is going to take some work.

“So, hey, I need to hit up Macy’s while we’re here,” Jon now says in a manly tone that Gabe never would have expected to go along with that particular sentence. There’s a brief silence as everyone throws Jon a confused look until he sighs.

“Cologne,” he explains, and everyone nods.

*

 _So far, so good_ , Gabe thinks after about half an hour of browsing the stores. For the most part, they’ve looked at electronics and collectibles, so far only getting kicked out once at some random Indie store when Brendon had kicked a hacky-sack so hard that it put a hole in the ceiling tile – Gabe had never heard Ryan laugh so hard. It was almost scary seeing him smile so big, like it might break his face. But Gabe is glad to see his friends appearing to warm up to each other, all getting along. Gabe still has to kind of initiate conversation between the two groups, but they’re getting better. And as an added bonus, Gabe is loving the way that his and William’s hands keep bumping each other when they walk together.

In the vintage clothing store, something seems to turn on behind both Ryan and Brendon’s eyes, and it’s not even five minutes before the only thing Gabe remembers ever hearing is the sound of Brendon and Ryan telling each other to ‘look at this!’ every two seconds like they’re finding buried treasure over and over again. It’s even gotten to the point where Gabe thinks for a half a moment that Ryan just called Brendon ‘babe’, but he was probably only saying ‘hey’. Probably.

“So…” Jon is suddenly standing next to Gabe, making him jump slightly when he speaks right in his ear, “…are you seeing what I’m seeing?”

Gabe follows Jon’s gaze, looking back at Ryan and Brendon talking excited over an old The Who shirt and probably debating whether or not Roger Daltrey actually touched it or something. At first, Gabe thinks Jon is talking about Brendon’s kid-in-a-candy-shop reaction to the vintage clothes, and he’s about to remind Jon of Brendon’s extensive assortment of old band shirts from, like, before they were even born and his almost obsessively organized collection of vinyl records, but as he keeps watching them, he sees Brendon and Ryan’s faces get awkwardly close to each other’s as they keep talking over the shirt. _Oh_ , Gabe thinks. They’re about as close as Gabe would only get to one of his good friends, and not a complete stranger, which is pretty weird. Jon makes a small noise of discomfort, kind of like the one he makes whenever Gabe ‘helps’ Michael with his form when he’s shooting baskets.

Ryan and Brendon seem to notice the totally bizarre thing they’re doing, too, and look up at each other suddenly. Then Brendon says something Gabe can’t really hear and darts off in the other direction. Ryan stares after him for a second with an unreadable expression before hanging the shirt back up on the rack.

“…Yeah, kind of,” Gabe answers. Jon sighs and shakes his head as he walks off towards the hats for whatever reason, if only to distract himself from his thoughts that are probably telling him that his entire life has been a lie. Gabe laughs to himself at Jon’s expense.

Gabe strolls casually over to where William is looking at accessories, particularly a leather bracelet that he seems to be having trouble getting to clasp around his small wrist.

“Here,” Gabe says, holding out his hands as he steps up next to William. William startles at first, but then gives Gabe his wrist and the bracelet which he gets secured after a couple tries.

“Thank you,” William says, not looking up from the bracelet.

Gabe shrugs. “No problem.”

“No,” William laughs, “I mean thank you f-for bringing me and…I’m having fun. Your friends a-are nice.” William’s hair falls into his face, but Gabe can still see the blush growing on his cheeks. He resists the urge to gently lift William’s chin, brush that perfectly tangled hair from his eyes, and…

“Okay, I need to get out of here before I sell my soul to Satan for another vinyl record I don’t need,” Brendon informs everyone as he turns on his heel and starts speed-walking towards the doors. Jon is quick to follow and Ryan saunters after them. Gabe looks at William who’s still turning his wrist over and over, viewing the leather bracelet closely.

“You gonna buy that?” Gabe asks him. William shakes his head and undoes the clasp.

“No,” he says kind of sadly, “I don’t h-have a whole lot of money…I really need a job, actually.” William say offhandedly as he shrugs and puts the bracelet back and goes to meet up with the guys waiting outside. Gabe takes one quick look back at the bracelet before following him out. But when he catches up with them, Gabe waves a hand in a vague direction as he tells them he’s gonna make a quick stop in the restroom. They all nod and Jon tells him they’ll be heading to the bookstore.

“Cool, I’ll be there in a minute,” Gabe tells them. He waits until they’re a good distance away before turning and heading back into the vintage store and picking up that bracelet again. $8.99, not too much. Gabe takes it up to the counter and pulls out his wallet, smiling proudly to himself. The girl at the cash register gives him a weird look but rings him out nonetheless.

*

Gabe stuffs the leather bracelet into his back pocket and wanders into the bookstore. He looks around until he sees Jon walking towards him with an exasperated but mostly annoyed look, William trailing right behind him.

“We lost Brendon,” Jon tells him when they reach each other.

“Ryan’s gone, too!” William adds, scurrying over to Gabe’s side, standing close in a way that makes the corner of Jon’s mouth visibly twitch.

“How do you lose two people?” Gabe asks. He glances around for a dark mop of hair or a tall, lanky figure but sees nothing.

“Well they were laughing at some pornographic anime last time I saw them,” Jon rolls his eyes, “I took my eyes off them for 5 seconds and they were both gone.” Gabe looks at William who nods in agreement.

Gabe runs a hand through his hair and thinks about what the best way to deal with this would be.

“Did you try texting Brendon?” he asks. Jon shakes his head and pulls his phone out of his pocket. Gabe rolls his eyes and looks at William to see him idly chewing on his hair. Gabe quirks an eyebrow at him and it takes him a second before he glances up at Gabe with those chocolate eyes and lets the wet locks drop from his lips. Gabe chuckles. “Hungry?” he asks. William smiles and bites his bottom lip, showing off his crooked teeth Gabe really, really likes.

“Maybe a little,” he admits.

Gabe turns to Jon and says, “Tell Brendon to meet us in the Food Court.” Jon looks up from his phone at him and gives him a look that Gabe doesn’t feel so comfortable receiving, but he finishes typing up his message and closes his phone.

“Alright, sent,” he announces, and they all head in the direction of fast food and crowded seating.

**R**

“Hey,” Brendon says suddenly. It sounds oddly serious, compared to the way they’d just been laughing at the ridiculous graphic novel they’d found a moment ago – girls with boobs bigger than their heads, spikey hair that defied gravity, and the dumbest sound-effects that they had taken turns mimicking out loud – and Ryan’s stomach drops as he looks up, worried that this ‘hey’ will be followed by an ‘I’m still dating Sarah and nothing will change that’. Ryan knew this day had been going too well – it had been just like the old days, for a while; before appearances mattered so much to Brendon and before his parents had become wary of their son’s closeness to his oddly feminine best friend – and now Brendon’s realized his slip-up and has decided to retreat back into the closet, back where it’s safe.

As if even getting along with Ryan for a day is going to somehow ‘out’ him.

Something in Ryan’s eyes must say what he’s thinking, blatantly showing his disappointment, because Brendon stops in his tracks for a second when they make eye-contact, looking confused and maybe a little guilty. And he should, Ryan thinks haughtily. Brendon clears his throat.

“I was just gonna ask…where’d the others go?” he says. Ryan relaxes a bit when he doesn’t say the words he’d been expecting – but only a bit. He tears his gaze away from Brendon and glances around the general area. William and that Jon guy are nowhere to be seen, and he and Brendon are…completely alone.

Ryan doesn’t say anything as he heads off in the opposite direction, only allowing himself to smile slyly once his face is turned away from Brendon. And it doesn’t take much to get Bren to follow. He probably thinks Ryan knows where the others are. Nope. Ryan has no clue, nor does he care.

They head out of the bookstore, and Ryan keeps a close watch on Brendon out of the corner of his eye until they reach the ‘family’ restroom. That’s when Brendon finally stops and seems to question Ryan’s intentions. He looks at Ryan incredulously, as if he doesn’t realize where this is going, the way he always does. But Ryan’s quick and grabs him by the arm, dragging him inside before he can say anything.

_Click._

The door is locked before the automatic lights are on, so there’s a moment of quiet darkness, the only thing present being the sound of the boys’ breathing. When the fluorescent light is filling up the small white room, Ryan’s face is almost unbearably close as he watches Brendon’s pupils quickly shrink in the light.

“…What—”

Brendon’s pointless question is cut off by Ryan’s lips crashing against his own. He doesn’t shove him off, but he also doesn’t respond otherwise. This isn’t good enough for Ryan, who places a forceful hand on Brendon’s shoulder, pinning him to the door behind him with a thump. He kisses him harder, forcing a muffled sound from the shorter boy’s throat. It’s not exactly protesting, but neither is it encouraging. Ryan always has to work for it in the beginning. Fuck, he always has to work for everything with Brendon.

Ryan pulls back for a moment to look over Brendon’s face. Brendon’s eyes flutter open and his cheeks are a light pink.

“I still care about you,” Ryan whispers. He meets Brendon’s eyes that are looking back, but he can’t read what might be behind them. “I always will.” But it breaks his heart that Brendon doesn’t feel the same. Or at least he won’t admit he does.

“I know,” is all Brendon says, only proving Ryan’s point. His eyes still aren’t giving anything away. Ryan closes his eyes, sighing. He feels like giving up, telling himself that he shouldn’t have to work for this. He deserves something better. His nose lightly bumps Brendon’s as he leans in again, this time kissing him softer than before. He knows that Brendon isn’t going to resist him. He never does.

“Bren,” Ryan sighs, tired of the same conversation that never goes anywhere. He parts his lips, making the kiss deeper. Brendon responds, now, and their tongues brush briefly. Brendon lifts a hand to fist in Ryan’s hair, knocking his hat onto the floor but neither one pays it any notice. Ryan slides his hands around Brendon’s middle, holding him close as they kiss slowly, letting himself get lost in it, letting himself at least enjoy it while he can. They’re only in love behind closed doors.

Love. What a dumb concept.

Then, out of nowhere, there’s a swift knock on the door, the sound of whining children. Ryan and Brendon jolt apart, realizing that there’s an actual family outside, wanting to use the _family_ restroom. Fuck. Since when do people actually use these things?

Ryan freezes and doesn’t know where to go from here. Fuck, how are they going to explain it when they come out?

Hah, ‘come out’. Ryan would laugh if he wasn’t so terrified.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mostly a filler chapter, and another little peek into Ryan and Brendon's relationship because you can never have too much angsty Ryden
> 
> kissing is awkward to write holla


	6. Literally Gay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> what you missed last time on HSM: BE: Gabe takes William to the mall (only partially against his will) in an attempt to make his friends more open to the idea of the musical and Gabe and William hanging out, as well as Ryan because, well...Gabe hadn't really expected him to show up. But Ryan and Brendon seem to get along really well. Surprisingly well. But will things stay that way?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i think this is my favorite chapter so far?? of the ones i've posted at least ;)))

**R**

The rapping on the door comes again, louder, accompanied by the rattling of the door handle and Ryan’s horrified whimper.

Brendon, however, doesn’t seem quite as scared. Rather, he reacts quickly, pushing past Ryan and heading to where the toilet is. Ryan watches curiously as he flushes it with his foot, picks up Ryan’s hat off the floor and tosses it to him, then goes back to the door, releasing the lock. The hairs on the back of Ryan’s neck stand up and he wants to yell at Brendon to get back here. What the fuck is he doing?

Suddenly, Brendon turns around, grabbing the back of Ryan’s head and holding him steady. Ryan is about to protest that now is definitely not the time when Brendon’s other arm, covered by his hoodie sleeve, comes up and roughly rubs the bottom of Ryan’s nose.

“Nngh!” Ryan whines, reaching up to swat him away and protectively touch the skin of his nostrils that now feels sore and is probably red. What the hell was that for?

Brendon opens the door, now, greeting the family waiting outside with a charming grin. They blink back at him and one of their younger kids laughs delightedly.

“Sorry,” Brendon says in a polite tone. He reaches behind him and pulls Ryan into the doorway who is still rubbing his sore nose, “he had a pretty bad nosebleed. All cleaned up now, though.” He shrugs and slips past the family without any more of an explanation. They all look at Ryan for a moment – to his great discomfort – and they seem to buy it, nodding; “of course, of course,” they say and shuffle out of the boys’ way. Brendon tries to loop his fingers around Ryan’s slender wrist to guide him out but he shakes him off with a wary glance to the back of Brendon’s head.

**G**

“Ahem. Guys. Can you—”

Gabe tears his eyes away from William’s to look at Jon, surprised by how uneasy and frankly green he looks.

“What?” Jon makes a face and gestures back to William. Gabe turns and sees him just as he had been, lazily running his tongue up and down the red ice pop Gabe had been sweet enough to buy him to satisfy his hunger until Brendon and Ryan come to meet them. William raises his eyebrows at Jon as he moves to swirl his tongue around the tip of the pop and Jon’s face pales visibly.

Gabe makes a face. “What?” he asks again. Jon just sighs, then he gets up, mumbling something about the restroom. Gabe watches him go and smiles when he sees him run into Brendon and Ryan who are coming their way. Brendon waves as he approaches and takes the seat Jon had just left, and Ryan timidly slips into the chair next to William and on the opposite side of Brendon. Gabe feels bad that Ryan had gotten lost with Brendon whom he doesn’t know, but he hopes it hadn’t gone too badly seeing as they’d been getting along pretty well earlier from the looks of it.

“So where’d you—”

“Went to the music store to get some new guitar strings, and Ryan needed some more staff paper, so he came with,” Brendon answers before the question is out. Gabe’s eyebrows shoot up and he looks at Ryan who currently resembles a spooked cat but nods nonetheless. Eyeing them, though, Gabe happens to notice the lack of bags on them, and is about to say something when Brendon beats him to it yet again.

“Then we ran out to our cars to drop them off.” Gabe can do nothing at this point but hold his palms up in submission, resolving not to try and ask more questions. If those two are hiding something, so be it. He looks to William who doesn’t seem quite as concerned, just happy to see the two of them.

“Oh yeah, Bruno’s h-has some good stuff,” he says with a smile, “what brand s-s-strings do you usually get, Br..endon?”

And yeah, that’s right, William plays guitar. One of the many ways in which he’s so much cooler and more well-rounded than Gabe is. With a sigh, Gabe leans back in his chair and tunes out the newly sparked conversation about musical what-have-you and elects to watch Ryan’s attempts to avoid eye contact with anybody until Jon can swoop in and maybe save the both of them.

*

After Jon has returned and they’ve all finally grabbed some lunch, Jon begins to dictate the conversation as expected, bringing up more relatable things like movies, school, and recalling some crazy stories from freshman year to an eager-eared William and a vaguely entertained Ryan who just _had_ to be there. And maybe he’ll occasionally give Gabe and William a hesitant glance or two at them sitting so close, but Gabe is honestly too preoccupied thinking about the weight in his pocket that is the bracelet he wants to give William and the swoopy feeling he’s getting at thinking about the right time to do it which he’s not familiar with at all.

On top of that, Gabe has been watching Brendon and Ryan for a while now and can’t for the _life_ of him figure out what might have happened during the time they were off on their own. Ryan looks really pissed, and Brendon keeps glancing over at him now and again with this uncharacteristically guilty look. Gabe wonders if Brendon might have said something stupid like he has the tendency to. Granted, he’s not as careless with his words like, say, Alex, but he can be an ass some of the time. And Ryan is definitely sensitive and easy to offend.

“So, yeah,” Jon says at one point over his cinnamon dolce latte, “you guys nervous about the callbacks?” It maybe sounds a little forced, but Gabe appreciates the effort.

Gabe glances over at William whose once relaxed face now appears slightly pale as he swallows, but then he giggles.

“Yeah, I s-suppose so,” he shrugs, “but it’s not like I’m dying t-to get the part or anything. It’s really just for f-fun, right?” He turns to Gabe for acknowledgement, which he receives via a noncommittal nod.

“That’s good,” Jon says, “’cause I’m not gonna lie, chances of getting it are pretty slim when you’re up against Victoria and Ryland, amiright?”

A pang of adrenalin shoots through Gabe’s body at that comment, and William visibly stiffens, his expression drooping ever-so slightly. He shrugs casually, though. As if Jon hadn’t basically completely thrown out the possibility of them doing well enough to get the parts.

“That’s t-t-true,” he says, “So I’m not w-worried about that. I’m only scared of m-messing up in front of a bunch of people, is all.”

Jon laughs at that, which was rather unexpected (unexpected enough to make Ryan sitting on the opposite side of William jolt slightly in his seat).

“I wouldn’t really worry about that,” he says through a chuckle.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Ryan speaks up. Brendon’s eyes immediately turn to look at him with the same sorry puppydog face, and Gabe would roll his own if he weren’t an inch away from kicking Jon in the shin under the table before he said something horribly stupid.

“No offense little man, but nobody really goes to watch the callbacks for the school musical. Or the musical itself for that matter.”

The look on Ryan’s face makes it obvious how much he wants to say to that, but he instead just slumps back in his seat and crosses his arms, looking sternly down at the table.

All of a sudden, everything feels tense, like the ground has just stilled after an earthquake, and nobody’s willing to make the first move. Gabe glances at William who looks like he might cry, or maybe punch someone in the face. Whichever comes first. He’s chewing his lower lip and scratching distractedly at the label on his water bottle with the nail of his thumb. Gabe reaches his arm behind the boy’s chair to rub his shoulder lightly not only to comfort him but maybe get the message across of how sorry he is that Jon is such an ass. Even though Jon’s the one who should be apologizing. What the hell’s been his problem lately? He shoots a glare across the table at his friend, though he’s too busy with his phone to notice.

**V**

Fabulous. Simply fabulous. Victoria admires her impeccable fashion sense and the stylish new pink pumps she just bought to match the belt she’d gotten earlier that week and smiles pridefully.

“Oh, Ryland,” she fawns, “I’m so glad Daddy was sweet enough to let me have my allowance early this week. Again. I don’t know if I could have survived a _day_ without these shoes.” With that, she places them neatly back in their box, back in the black Shii shopping bag they came in and promptly tosses it upon the pile of other bags Ryland is currently balancing in his arms.

Ryland smiles as he easily catches it and carries on walking beside her. “They really are beautiful,” he agrees, “perfect for our outfits for the callbacks performance.”

Victoria makes a small noise of disapproval. “It’s still ridiculous we have to do callbacks at all. Nobody has beat us for any part in any play, like, ever.”

“Well, there was that one time with the Christmas play in third grade…”

“But that was only because Sierra’s _mom_ was directing and was playing _favorites_ , rather than looking at _actual talent_.” She makes a sharp turn that catches Ryland by surprise but he quickly catches himself. “Besides, I ended up with the part anyway, didn’t I? It’s a shame Sierra had to fall off the jungle gym right before the performance.” She grinned at the memory. Lies, of course. Mrs. Kusterbeck had made the mistake of casting Victoria as Sierra’s understudy for Mary, as well as Sierra stupidly thinking it’d been safe to mention the play while the two girls sat at the top of the jungle gym. Horrible, slippery things, jungle gyms. One _innocent_ nudge from a nearby playmate could send you toppling a whole five feet to land nastily on one’s fragile and frankly talentless wrist.

A rumble in Victoria’s belly reminds her just how hungry shopping recalling past victories make her. One more turn and she and her stepbrother arrive at the food court – not a lot of healthy choices available, but it would do. Ryland offers to find a table and stay with their purchases (less than even a quarter of which are actually Ryland’s, but Victoria has _needs_ ) while Victoria goes and gets some food for them both.

**W**

Gabe’s friend Jon has been getting out of hand, and in the midst of an awkward silence after a particularly mean comment about the musical, William elects to take everyone’s trash away, if only to get away and think for a moment. He’d felt bad wriggling away from Gabe’s comforting hand on his shoulder, mostly because he wasn’t mad at Gabe although it might have come off that way. He balances everyone’s wrappers and plates and trays carefully before trudging off towards the trash receptacles, making various embarrassed and angry faces as he thinks to himself, rewarding him with an odd look or two from the people he passes. William really isn’t mad at anyone – not even Jon – other than maybe himself for being stupid enough to actually think that maybe he and Gabe had a chance at getting the parts. And now it seems that the callbacks, which had been a big deal for him, are apparently not the same for the rest of the school. Maybe he’d just gotten too caught up in liking Gabe and thinking these callbacks would be some magical Disney-esque accomplishment that ended with them living happily ever after.

**V**

“Thank you,” Victoria says with a wink to the attractive boy at Panda Express who hands her hers and Ryland’s food, and tosses her change – which is a lot, seeing as she only carries around 50s and 100s. 20s have been touched by way too many common people for her liking – into his tip jar and struts away. She hopes that he didn’t assume all this food was just for _her_ , but seeing how _awesome_ she looks in her cute new pink waistcoat, it probably wouldn’t matter either way.

Alas, Victoria pouts to herself, that boy hadn’t been _nearly_ as cute as Gabe Saporta. Ah, Gabriel, the master of hard-to-get. He should honestly feel lucky to be the topic of interest for someone as artsy and talented as Victoria. She’s usually a DiCaprio or Gosling girl herself, but there’s something about Gabe that just ruffles her pink sparkly faux feathers. And now that he’s auditioning for the musical? Victoria is conflicted to say the least. She knows that it’s an obvious attempt to get her attention but still pretend to not care, but she’s also enraged that The Butcher could consider anyone else worthy competition for her and her brother. Ridiculous!

**W**

William shoves the last of the trash into the bin, finally done struggling with the ridiculously heavy swing opening. He sighs as he places the green trays on top and brings his hands to his face. He doesn’t want to go back to that table and hear more from Jon about how stupid the whole musical thing is, but he remembers that Ryan’s back there all by himself, probably uncomfortable as Hell, so William decides to man up. He smacks himself lightly on the cheek for reassurance and turns around.

**V**

Victoria’s heels click a little faster now, eager to not be seen with two steaming plates of Chinese food – what if her diet coach saw her like this? She spots Ryland way in the back with their tower of shopping back and smiles as he waves her over. She’s about to pass by the trash cans now when she spots someone familiar. She doesn’t slow down as she eyes him and she’s very close when suddenly he turns around…

**G**

When William is far enough away, Gabe turns to Jon and frowns.

“…What?”

“Do you not have a filter on that mouth of yours?”

Jon sips his latte thoughtfully. Brendon wrinkles his nose at the sound as he types something out on his phone. “I s’pose not,” Jon says at last. Gabe rolls his eyes.

“I dunno, man, I’m really just not a fan of the musical thing and people looking at you and me and everyone all funny lately.”

Brendon shrugs as he slips his phone back in his pocket. “It’s true, you know. And all the theater kids and nerds and everyone else…they think they can, like, _talk_ to us, now. Like, without any pretense. The status quo is out of whack or something.” Gabe thinks his eyes are gonna roll right out of his head at this rate.

“Yeah, cuz they think that we’re all equal now, just ‘cause you and curly-q over there are in some gay play.”

Gabe shoots Jon a venomous glare, but he sets down his latte and puts his hands up in defense. “I mean, literally. The musical is _literally_ gay.” He looks at Ryan to back him up who shrugs in agreement.

“’t’s true,” he admits.

Gabe sighs and leans back in his chair dramatically with annoyance. But that doesn’t last long when a sudden shrill cry sends him bolting out of his seat, looking in the direction of the sound.

**W**

“AAAAAAAAAAAGGGGHHHHHHH!!!!!!!” Victoria wails in disgust as William scrambles to wipe away the Chinese food splattered all over the front of her blouse, even though it’s hopeless now that the red sauce has seeped into the white fabric, but it’s the most he can do when Victoria is just standing there, screaming and causing a scene.

It’d all happened so fast; William turning around to run face-first into Victoria who’d been nearly sprinting (which he found impressive, in those heels) holding two big plates of Chinese food.

Within seconds Gabe and the others along with Ryland are surrounding them, Gabe pulling William away by his arms and demanding what happened.

“I-I-I don’t kn-know I just turned a-around and she just…Sh-she – I – it was an accident, I—”

“Hey, hey,” Gabe says calmly, “no, it’s fine, I believe you. God, she can scream can’t she?” He laughs now, and William laughs too because, yeah, Victoria’s still yelling – must be those singer’s lungs. It’s amazing that she’s still going – while her brother attempts to clean her off and fails at getting her to quiet down.

“He! He did this on purpose! He's jealous and he just _dumped_  it on me! He's such a freak!”

People are still staring, and Brendon comes over and pushes them lightly along saying they should probably get out of here. Gabe, William and Ryan hurry along out the nearest exit while Brendon goes back to drag along Jon who’s currently doubled over in laughter.

*

“Thank you for taking m-me along today,” William says, tucking some locks behind his ear. It’s cold enough outside so that he can probably play off his blush right now as being because of that and not because of the way Gabe’s smiling at him.

“You already said that,” Gabe teases, pinching William’s nose. “And you didn’t even _want_ to at first.”

William giggles, swatting his hand away. “Yeah, yeah, but I was just n-nervous. I didn’t want your friends to not like me, you know?”

“Aw, Bilvy,” Gabe says fondly, moving his hand away from William’s halfhearted battering and bringing it to pet his soft curls, “I didn’t doubt for a second that they’d like you.” His hand slides to cup William’s face, and William doesn’t try to bat it away this time. He laughs nervously.

“I feel like Ryan m-maybe did even better than me at im..pressing your friends, though,” he jokes, and Gabe laughs, taking his hand away. William’s face feels slightly colder.

“Right? You’d think he and Bren were best friends the way they shared the same taste and everything. Though…” He leans in a little closer like he means to share a secret. William leans in too just because. “I think that little show with Victoria at the end of it really won Jon over. I don’t think anyone hates that girl more than him.”

William smiles as he sighs. “Yeah? I still f-feel pretty bad about that, though. She d-didn’t deserve to be embarrassed like that.”

Gabe shrugs. “Nothing you can do, I guess. So, hey,” he shoves his hands in his coat pockets, suddenly looking bashful and ridiculously cute, “do you wanna, maybe, come inside for a while? I’ve got a fireplace and we could see what’s on Netflix…”

William stops him with his hands on Gabe’s wrists before he gets too far (and before the offer starts too sound too appealing to decline. “I would, I really would,” he says. He’d driven to Gabe’s that morning so Gabe could drive them to the mall because William still isn’t too familiar with the area, and he couldn’t think of anything less desirable than going home to his mom and try to tell her about his day without melting into a puddle over Gabe Saporta. Maybe he could get her gossiping about her coworkers enough to make her forget to ask him. “But I’ve got to go home and have d-dinner with my mom. It’s her first night in a while w-without the night shift and she really wants to—”

“Hey, yeah, say no more I totally get it,” Gabe says easily, “my mom’s the same way. She always wants a nice sit-down dinner with the _family_.”

William smiles remorsefully at him. “Thank you,” he says and straightens up to kiss him sweetly on the cheek. When he pulls back, Gabe is grinning at him, and it appears that the cold has bitten his cheeks red as well.

“Drive safe,” he says.

“Yeah.” William bites his lip and makes for his car.

“Shit. Wait. Bill!”

William spins around maybe too eagerly. “Yeah?”

Gabe is digging in his pockets as he approaches William again and when he pulls his hand back out, he’s holding something.

“Is that—?”

“Yeah,” Gabe nods animatedly. And maybe William in his surprise missed his cue, because after a beat Gabe lifts his hand to place a small leather object in it. William hesitates before lifting it up to get a better look and, sure enough, it’s the same bracelet he’d been looking at in the one store at the mall, the one he couldn’t afford. He has no idea what to say, just looks at it for a while before Gabe speaks again.

“Can I put it on you?”

“Yeah,” William says in almost a whisper. He holds it back out to Gabe who takes it and ties it snugly around his narrow wrist. William twists it around experimentally then looks back at Gabe.

“I d-don’t know what to say…”

“Don’t,” Gabe says, “just. Drive safe. Okay?”

“’Kay.”

Gabe grins and shifts around on his feet a bit before turning around and heading into his house.

William lets out a shaky sigh and watches him until he’s inside before getting in his car and driving home.

*

Stepping into his own toasty warm house, William sighs dreamily as he closes the front door behind him and can’t stop himself from smiling. He feels bad that he had to leave so soon, but Gabe’s proud smile when he watched Williams’ reaction to the gift he’d bought him was enough to make him feel safe enough to assume that things will still be okay. William brings a hand to his mouth and leans against the door a little longer, still in his winter coat, buzzing with the adrenalin from kissing Gabe on the cheek; something he’d wanted to do for a while.

“William, are you home now?” William feigns scratching the corner of his mouth or something when his mom enters the foyer looking for him. “How was the mall?” she asks. William can’t help beaming at her even though she’s the reason he’s not at Gabe’s right now.

“Great!” Mostly the last part, though. “I think I’ve finally made some good friends!”

“That’s fantastic, honey,” his mom says, hugging him. “Now come sit down. We’re having spaghetti!” She pats him teasingly on the butt and heads back into the dining room where their dinner is waiting. William rolls his eyes playfully and follows and gets ready to try and not think about Gabe for at least the next half an hour.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wooooooooo how many months was that nobody knows
> 
> cries i want a gabe
> 
> next chapter is a ryden chapter because necessary


	7. The Reality of Life or Whatever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What you missed last time on HSM: BE: Despite there being more than one incident, Gabe and William’s trip to the mall ends on a good enough note. Victoria’s day of shopping might have been ruined though, along with her blouse. And William is still on the fence about telling his mom about Gabe and the school musical, while Jon is trying to get Gabe to give up the musical altogether. But what about Ryan and Brendon?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is just so long and so unnecessary but yeah I hope you like Ryden. I attempted smut, so I apologize in advance.
> 
> This was supposed to be a Gabilliam fic goddammit. I knew I shouldn't have gotten Ryden involved.

**R**

“I just don’t get it, Spence,” Ryan sighs to his best friend while he jots down notes on the sheet music in his lap. He lifts his head to look over at Spencer who is sitting on the floor as he polishes his triangle, looking concentrated as he doesn’t respond. Ryan knows he’s listening, though. Spencer always listens.

“…I don’t see how it’s so hard for him to come to terms with it.” Ryan looks back down at his notes and idly doodles some crude little daisies around the title, _When the Day Met the Night_. He’s talking about Brendon, of course, and he doesn’t need to say it for Spencer to know. It seems like his mind always manages to wander back to the subject, however painful and hopelessly repetitive his questions may be. Spencer shrugs, setting down his now glistening triangle with a small clink, then moves to do the same with his cowbell.

“Everybody handles things in different ways,” he says in his soft, caring tone. Spencer is always so patient, which is something that Ryan appreciates greatly, even if Spencer is almost never able to actually solve Ryan’s problems, only explain them. “Also, he’s a Mormon.”

“His parents are Mormons,” Ryan corrects him, in the same way Brendon probably would at that notion, but Spencer has a point either way. Ryan knows that coming out would be one of the most terrifying things Brendon could ever even think of doing, but at the same time, Ryan is getting sick of waiting around and watching Brendon lie about everything and pretend that what they have isn’t there, and that Ryan doesn’t exist. Ryan’s patience only wears so thin before it breaks. He’s not like Spencer.

Spencer looks away from his instruments, finally, and turns his bright blue eyes to Ryan sitting on the bed. He smiles fondly, though the paranoid part of Ryan’s brain senses some sort of pity as well.

“Give him time, Ry,” Spencer tells him, “I mean, you know he likes you. He has since the day you met.”

Ryan doesn’t smile at that like Spencer might’ve wanted him to. He sets his sheets aside and gets up from Spencer’s bed. He steps carefully over the array of instruments strewn about Spencer’s room until he reaches his friend. He pushes his back against the wall and slides down it until his butt meets the floor, and is arms wrap themselves around his raised knees as he squishes his face into them. Spencer pats his head supportively.

“He clearly doesn’t like me enough to do anything about it,” Ryan murmurs into his jeans, the self-pity heavy in his voice. Ryan curses the memory of them in 7th grade, out in the parking lot waiting for the bus when Brendon had brought up the fact that his parents were worried about how much time they spent with each other. The next day, Ryan had seen Brendon awkwardly trying to talk sports with Jon Walker, and that had been when Ryan knew things were gonna get a lot shittier from then on.

Spencer makes a small noise of disagreement and Ryan looks up, making a face.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but didn’t he drag you into the janitor’s closet the other day?” he asks with a sly smirk. Ryan blushes slightly at the mention of that day, when Brendon had roughly grabbed Ryan’s arm and propelled him in the direction of the closet before anyone was able to see, murmuring something vague and yet very straightforward. Brendon’s lips had tasted like Sarah’s lip balm until Ryan had kissed it all off, quite intentionally.

Spencer leans in close, wiggling his eyebrows. “ _Hot_ ,” he whispers.

Ryan can’t help but burst into laughter at that, burying his face into his knees again just to keep it down a bit. Spencer smiles proudly at Ryan’s reaction and Ryan thinks he couldn’t have asked for a better friend.

Spencer may not be able to solve his problems, but he sure has a way of making them seem less significant.

**B**

_God, this is so stupid,_ Brendon thinks to himself. And yet he’s not stopping. He’s still scuffing his converse along the sidewalk toward the third house down from his and he’s doing this and he’s not turning around – apparently not even for a coat or something warmer than the thin violet hoodie he’s wearing. At least his jitters can maybe be excused as chills.

The walk is eerily familiar, and Brendon very nearly forgets why he’s going in the first place. He almost forgets that he’s not in elementary school, having just gotten done with his homework – which had felt like so much more before experiencing the horrors of high school – and on his way to visit the most beautiful boy on his street that he’d met at the coloring station in Miss Cady’s class.

Brendon could never forget when he first saw that boy with the rosy cheeks and soft brown hair, and the sad look in his big brown eyes. His eyes that had immediately reminded a young Brendon of his cousin’s beautiful horse that she dressed up and rode in shows. Brendon just wanted to get that frown off that boy’s face and immediately went to make friends. He’d looked over the boy’s shoulder to see what he was coloring – a lovely flowery design with blues and reds and oranges and what young Brendon at the time had thought was a particularly ornate and complicated looking golden border, but what was actually just some curly squiggles.

“That’s very pretty,” Brendon had commented before realizing he hadn’t even introduced himself yet. The little brunet boy had startled at first and looked over his shoulder but just as quickly relaxed and shrugged.

“Pretty _odd_ ,” he’d snorted, and Brendon had been in awe of the boy’s use of such an adult-like word.

“I’m Brendon,” he said, remembering his manners. The other boy put down his crayon and turned to face him.

“I’m George Ryan Ross, the third,” he’d announced proudly, “but you can call me Ryan.”

Little Brendon had smiled so widely at that and dove in for a huge hug.

“Nice to meet you, Ryan!!”

Brendon shakes his head at the memories, and his fingers tighten a bit around the brown paper bag he’s holding close to him against the February wind. _This is stupid_ , he thinks as he slows in front of a gray stone house. _This is so, so stupid_ , he thinks as he climbs the steps and rings the bell. _This is the dumbest, most idiotic, most unbelievably—_ “Hi, Ms. Ross!” Brendon says cheerily as Ryan’s mother answers the door, looking at him with big, confused eyes. Brendon briefly wonders if this is what it’s like to be one of those people that goes door to door talking about Jesus.

But Ms. Ross’ expression soon turns familiarly sweet and inviting. There are more lines on her face than he remembers, and it makes him sad realizing just how long it’s been since he’s seen this woman who used to be like a second mother to him.

“Brendon!” she says, “oh, I haven’t seen you in _years_ , how are you? Lord, you must be cold, please come in! Ryan’s not here but he should be home soon…” She ushers him swiftly inside after he removes his shoes and, before he knows it, he’s seated in a living room he distinctly recognizes on a couch that he doesn’t.

“So what’s going on? Ryan’s told me you joined the basketball team.” Brendon smiles sadly at the thought of Ryan mentioning it bitterly through his teeth when he mom asked about him, undoubtedly curious about their friendship after not seeing him around for so long. He nods, and Ryan’s mom sits a cushion away from him on the couch. “What brings you here today?” she asks, and he can hear the way she forces herself not to say “after all these years”.

“I have something for him,” he explains, motioning to the brown bag next to him. He doesn’t really want to talk about it, if only to spare Ryan’s mom from knowing just how long he and her son actually haven’t been the typical definition of ‘friends’. She seems to understand – at least, the part about him not wanting to go into detail – and she nods, standing up.

“Well then, do you want anything while you wait for Ryan? A drink? Snacks? I just feel like making an entire—”

Brendon is afraid of what she’s about to say when she stops mid-sentence. They both listen to the sound of the front door opening and closing and Ryan calling out to his mom and asking where she is.

“In here, Ryan! There’s someone here to see you!”

“What?” Ryan asks incredulously. Brendon hears the unmistakable sound of Ryan’s boots tramping down the hall, “did you invite relatives over without telling me again?” Brendon’s heart starts to race and it picks up full-speed when Ryan’s skinny figure peeks shallowly through the doorway, then all at once. He looks beautiful as ever when he’s at home – casual and unsuspecting before he realizes who exactly is in his living room. Brendon’s first instinct is to immediately stand up, wiping his suddenly sweaty palms on the sides of his pants.

“It’s Brendon!” Ms. Ross announces excitedly, hardly able to contain herself apparently. Her giggles fill what would otherwise be a very tense silence and an exchange of looks – Brendon’s scared and guilty and Ryan’s simply shocked.

At some point, Ms. Ross seems to sense the tension and clears her throat as she stands up. “Hm, well I’ll just leave you boys to it. Call if you need anything.” Then she turns to Brendon. “It’s been great seeing you, dear. I hope Ryan enjoys your present.” She exits the room, leaving the room to be suddenly quiet.

Then Ryan’s mouth curves up into a smirk. His cheeks and nose are rosy and red from being in the cold. “A _present_?” he asks, shucking off his coat and dropping it on the couch where his mother had been sitting.

Brendon scuffs his feet around bashfully. “Yeah, uh, I found this…” he reaches for the bag lying on the couch and pulls out its contents – a vinyl record. Frank Sinatra, to be exact. “…Well. To be honest, I listen to it all the time. But the other day” _more like today_ “I realized, ‘hey, didn’t Ryan lend this to me, like, four years ago?’ and I figured I should give it back eventually” _like ten minutes or so after making the discovery_ “so I decided to bring it by today” _the instant I put on pants._

After a beat, Ryan treks his still-snowy boots across the floor and puts his hands gently on the record. “Thanks,” he says. Brendon nods stiffly and hands over the record, which Ryan looks at thoughtfully before setting it on the coffee table beside him.

Ryan stands up straight again and reaches for Brendon’s uneven hoodie strings, fixing them. He’s terribly close right now but Brendon’s never been able to be uncomfortable with that.

“Now,” Ryan says, “why don’t you tell me why you’re _really_ here? You know that my mom’s probably having a seizure in the kitchen as we speak?”

Brendon chuckles. “Sorry, I…didn’t think this through very well.” He watches as Ryan finishes straightening out the strings and they’re both silent for a while. Ryan’s clearly waiting for more so Brendon tries again.

“I wanted to say I’m sorry.”

“For?”

“Everything.”

“ _Everything?_ ” Ryan’s fingers have fallen to Brendon’s hoodie pockets, twisting in the fabric – something he likes to do sometimes when they kiss, just holding onto something tightly.

“For yesterday,” Brendon fixes. ‘Everything’ sounds too big for him to handle right now.

“Oh,” Ryan mumbles, his fingers loosening their hold. “No, it’s fine, really.”

“Jon was being an ass.” Brendon lifts a hand to stroke down Ryan’s forearm. “I should have defended you. But—”

“’But’,” Ryan deadpans.

“ _But_ ,” Brendon continues, “I don’t think Jon’s really got a problem with the play. Your play. I think he’s scared of losing Gabe to this William guy, is all. And he’s afraid of change.”

“I think he’s just being a baby, quite frankly,” Ryan says, and Brendon laughs. Ryan’s so much more fun when he’s in familiar company.

“Yeah. And like, you should have seen the way he was looking at us when we were getting kind of buddy-buddy yesterday. He…” Brendon stops when he notices the way Ryan’s looking at him now – frowning like he knew this was coming.

“Did that bother you?” Ryan asks, “seeing how people reacted to us?” He pulls his hands away and crosses his arms stubbornly, making Brendon drop his hand back to his side. “You know Gabe is making a hell of a big leap with the whole musical thing, not to mention the attention he gets by basically drooling over William every second he’s around him, and here you are still—”

“Stop,” Brendon tells him weakly.

“—still hiding who you are, even from your friends…you don’t have to tell your parents if you don’t want to but you shouldn’t be afraid to even fucking _look_ at me at school, Bren. I mean, if someone is gonna judge you for something like that, their opinion clearly isn’t worth your—”

“ _Stop_ , Ry. Please. I can’t just…I fucked up, okay? And believe me when I say that I want—” he pries Ryan’s arms apart and takes both his hands in his own, “—I _really_ want this to be easy, okay, but Jon’s still my friend. And as much as you wish it weren’t true, I do care about him and our friendship. And right now…Jon needs me, as someone who’s still there for him and still the same guy. At least until he’s over the whole Gabe thing. I’m not gonna tell him about us just for the same reason I’m not gonna tell him I love to bake crème brûlée: he doesn’t need to know. Not right now.” He squeezes Ryan’s hands that are still limp in his hold. Ryan sniffs.

“I’ll admit, it’s taken Gabe and this whole musical thing for me to realize what really matters, but I don’t want to put my own wants ahead of what my friend needs.”

“And what about what _I_ want and what _I_ need?” Ryan says finally. His eyes are red around the rims “I’ve spent my whole high school career so far, basically _alone_ not counting Spencer, waiting for you to come to your senses and stop being scared to be yourself. And now that you finally _have_ , you’re saying I have to wait even _longer_ for it to actually mean anything?”

“I’m gonna break up with Sarah.” It falls out of his mouth before he can rethink it. He’s been mulling it over for a while, but never really decided. But right now he just wants to tell Ryan what he wants to hear. He’s tired of seeing Ryan be nothing but angry and sad.

Ryan blinks at him. “Are you…”

“Yeah. That’ll be the first step. I’ll let her down easy and hopefully she won’t be jealous later.” Brendon winks and Ryan finally smiles.

“And will you actually talk to me at school, maybe?”

Brendon tries to hide the unsureness in his voice. After the mall thing, Jon’s gonna be questioning him every time Brendon even glances in Ryan’s general direction. But he’s willing to try. For Ryan’s sake.

“When I can,” he promises, “if only to get people used to it. ‘Cause after the whole musical thing blows over…” he leans his face a little closer to Ryan’s, a sly smile on his face.

“I’ll look so hot with my dashing young basketball star on my arm.”

Brendon chuckles, leaning in more to bump his nose against Ryan who looks like he can’t stop smiling.

“And I with my handsome writer.”

Then they’re finally kissing, with Ryan wrapping his arms around Brendon’s neck. It’s probably their most relaxed exchange in a very long time, and Brendon prays it won’t stop for a very long time. His hands snake under Ryan’s unzipped coat and around his middle to hold him closer and warm up his skinny body that’s still cold from being outside.

Ryan takes a sharp breath at the sensation and breaks off their kiss.

“Let’s take that record up to my room.”

Brendon bites his lip, nodding, and quickly scoops up the bag discarded on the table to hurriedly follow Ryan who’s already halfway up the stairs.

The moment he reaches Ryan’s room, he only looks around briefly before he sees Ryan sitting at the foot of his bed. The boy kicks off his shoes and shoves them to the side before leaning back on the heels of his palms and looking up expectantly.

Brendon drops the bag on the floor without much of a thought about its contents possibly breaking and kicks the door shut forcefully. Ryan purses his lips and watches Brendon shuck off his hoodie before crossing the floor to stand in front of him and push his legs open with his knee. Ryan lifts a hand to rest on the side of Brendon’s thigh, his long fingers nearly wrapping around it entirely. Brendon puts his own hand on Ryan’s neck and lightly strokes his jaw with his thumb.

“Hey,” Ryan whispers. He tilts his chin up, exposing his neck a bit more. He grins in a sexy, excited way that Brendon hasn’t seen in so long, and he feels the weird combination of heartbreak and being totally turned on. He decides to leave the heartbreak for later.

“Hi.” Brendon smiles back and leans in for another kiss and feels Ryan’s smile on his lips. The kiss is slow and sweet and probably the best one Brendon remembers having in years. Ryan is making these quiet noises, and Brendon kisses him harder when the boy sitting under him reaches up to pull at Brendon’s belt loops and drags him in closer. Every touch and short breath feels more significant than it has between them in a long time, and Brendon can only assume it’s because Ryan is more confident and happy because of the promises that have been made. Guilt pours through Brendon when he thinks about how unsure he is that he can keep all these promises and he almost fumbles. This position of standing over Ryan also isn’t the most comfortable, so with a low growl, he pushes Ryan back against the bed and climbs over him. Ryan laughs and pulls him down to kiss him again while pressing the thigh he’s got between Brendon’s legs up against Brendon’s crotch. Brendon groans at the feeling and ruts against the boy below him until deciding to readjust them so he’s straddling Ryan’s waist and grinds both their crotches together where he can feel Ryan’s erection straining against his jeans. The faint sound of kitchenware banging around downstairs can be heard underneath the boys’ heavy breathing.

Brendon moves to start kissing at Ryan’s neck. “Never realized how much I missed doing this in your room…your mom right downstairs…” he nips a bit at the pale skin and can feel the shiver go through the other boy’s body.

Ryan laughs breathlessly. “Didn’t know you had a thing for my mom, Bren – ah, fuck!” he interrupts himself when Brendon suddenly bites down hard on his neck. Brendon smiles and licks over the bruise he’s made and continues down to Ryan’s collarbone that’s exposed by his low-cut shirt.

In retaliation (probably), Ryan chooses that moment to stick his freezing cold hands underneath Brendon’s tee shirt and pressing them against his stomach. Brendon’s muscles contract at the contact and gasps in shock, nearly collapsing on top of Ryan who’s laughing at his reaction.

“Shit, Ry,” he murmurs into Ryan’s chest, “you’ve been inside for like fifteen minutes. How are you still this cold?” He’s trying to arch away from the ice cubes Ryan calls hands, but the boy just presses them harder against his abs. Ryan just cackles and rucks up Brendon’s shirt a bit more until Brendon gets the idea and lets him push it off over his head and toss it onto the floor.

“Guess you’d better warm me up,” Ryan whispers. Brendon shakes his head.

“That is _so_ cheesy. What kind of writer are you?”

“The kind that needs you to touch his dick,” Ryan answers simply and wriggles his hips for emphasis.

That’s the kind of thing about this boy that’s always entertained Brendon; anyone who’s only met or seen Ryan would say that he’s shy and reserved and wouldn’t imagine him being like this in bed or otherwise, but Brendon knows better. If you read the lyrics to some of his songs or experience him like Brendon has, you’ll realize how much of an animal this boy really is. He’s crazy and sexy and can dirty-talk like a champ. Having known him most of his life, you’d think it’d lose its novelty after a while, but Brendon supposes that’s the thing about loving someone; nothing gets old.

Brendon chuckles and leans in to pull Ryan’s lower lip into his mouth as he reaches for Ryan’s fly.

Ryan lifts his hips to help Brendon slide his jeans off his hips and pull them down and finally off.

“ _Finally_ ,” he sighs, and Brendon smiles as he gets his hands on Ryan’s shirt and pushes it up to lay kisses along the long white expanse of his stomach. It’s substantially more intimate than they’ve been since Brendon can’t remember when, and it almost feels like their first time. It’s still oh so familiar, though; the smell of him, the softness of his skin and the way his muscles move underneath it. And it’s all so much better with the sense of trust and the anticipation of this maybe actually working out.

Brendon’s mouth trails down towards Ryan’s boxers and Ryan’s breathing grows faster.

“Come _on_ , Bren,” he whines, but this just makes Brendon linger a little longer on his jutting hipbone, licking and biting there.

Finally, he gets his fingers under the elastic and pulls Ryan’s underwear down—

“Ryan?” There’s a knock on the door. The two boys on the bed freeze and stare at it, praying it won’t open. “Do you and Brendon want snacks or anything?”

Brendon chuckles and rolls his eyes before leaning down to put his mouth on Ryan’s exposed cock.

“No, Mom,” Ryan starts, “we’re – ahh!”

Ryan immediately bats at Brendon’s face, but he just grabs both his wrists and pins them to the bed. Brendon quirks an eyebrow up at Ryan as he licks over the slit and Ryan’s hands clutch at the bed sheets. After a second he takes one hand away from the other boy’s wrist and holds the base as he licks a long stripe all the way up.

“I think we’re good, thanks.”

There’s a pause. “You sure? I’ve got some—”

“We’re _fine_ , Mom!” Ryan insists, voice strained.

Brendon chooses this moment to take Ryan’s cock all the way down til his lips meet his hand. Ryan gasps and Brendon would be laughing if his mouth weren’t otherwise occupied.

“Alright, alright!” Ms. Ross says, “tell me if you need anything, then.”

“ _Mmhhmm_ ,” Ryan mumbles impatiently. Brendon moves leisurely up and down and listens to Ms. Ross’ steps fade away and eventually go down the stairs. Once they’re sure she’s gone, Ryan sits up and whaps Brendon on the side of the head, making him pull off.

“Now that’s a dangerous thing to do to someone with your dick in their mouth,” Brendon says with a slightly scratchy voice.

“You little shit!” Ryan scolds while trying to conceal a smile. Brendon just leans in and kisses him on the mouth, letting Ryan taste himself. He moans quietly and brings the hand that’s not being pinned down up to hold Brendon’s face. Brendon squeezes Ryan’s shaft a bit while they kiss, and Ryan takes a sharp breath but doesn’t pull away. The black haired boy finally takes his other hand away from Ryan’s wrist and instead puts it on the boy’s tiny waist, pulling him closer. Brendon continues to jerk Ryan off and kiss him until they have to stop to breathe, panting into each other’s mouths.

“Do you want..” Ryan starts, looking down at the bulge of Brendon’s neglected cock. Brendon shakes his head.

“Just let me—” Brendon says, letting the rest of the sentence die and thumbs over the slit which makes Ryan shudder.

“Then do it,” he tries to say challengingly, but it’s lost in the desperation in his voice. Brendon obeys anyway and starts stroking him faster.

Ryan’s entire body jolts and his toes curl as he comes onto Brendon’s hand with a groan that he buries into the crook of Brendon’s neck. Brendon pulls him through the aftershocks until the boy in his arms finally stops shaking, then Brendon gently tucks Ryan back into his boxers. It’s quiet for a while besides Ryan’s breathing, but Brendon waits patiently. He removes his hand from Ryan’s softening cock and wipes his hand discreetly on the blankets underneath them. Ryan’s face is warm against his neck and his breath even warmer.

“Okay?” he whispers in his ear. Ryan lifts his head, nodding, and kisses Brendon deeply. Brendon feels his mouth forced open and Ryan’s tongue pushes its way inside. The air between them is so hot and no one’s breath can be distinguished from the other’s. Ryan places his hands on Brendon’s bare chest and pushes them over towards the foot of the bed, with them landing dangerously close to the edge and in a way that has Brendon’s head hanging over it with his neck craned back and exposed completely. Ryan uses this opportunity to kiss and bite at the other boy’s neck just as Brendon had to him before.

“ _Ry_ ,” Brendon groans, a little louder than he probably should.

“Hmm?” the boy on top of him hums casually as he bites an angry red mark into Brendon’s skin, making him tighten his grip on Ryan’s tee shirt.

“Ryan, I’m so hard,” Brendon whines, slightly quieter than before. Ryan hums again thoughtfully as he works on making another hickey.

“Fucking hell,” Brendon mutters and starts reaching down to undo his fly. Ryan stops what he’s doing and swats his hands away.

“You weren’t so concerned about getting off before,” Ryan teases.

“Yeah, well, that was before you jizzed all over me.”

“Uhuh.” Ryan tuts and adjusts himself so he can grind his ass down on the bulge in Brendon’s jeans. Brendon loses his breath for a second at the sensation and his hands fly to Ryan’s hips to push him down more.

“You’re such a little—” he starts, but he doesn’t know where he’s going with it. All he knows is that Ryan’s ass is amazing but just not doing enough. He starts bucking his hips up wildly to try to push the other boy off him but ends up bouncing himself too close to the edge of the bed. Everything seems like it’s in slow motion as they slide down to the floor with a thump loud enough that Ryan’s mom _had_ to have heard it.

Brendon groans at the dull ache in his whole body and silently thanks the shag carpet below them for – hopefully – not having gotten a concussion from the fall, then looks over at Ryan where he’s rolled over and spread eagle and laughing hysterically.

“You…you should have seen your _face_ , Bren!” He’s laughing so genuinely and loudly that Brendon can’t help starting to giggle as well. “I’ve—” Ryan can hardly get the words out and he curls in on himself as he tries to catch his breath. “I’ve never seen such a look of pure _fear_ on anyone’s face before!”

Brendon’s full-on laughing just like Ryan, now. He can definitely imagine what kind of look he was wearing when he fell. And it’s really weird laughing like this with a boner, but it’s all just so natural with Ryan, in this room that feels like home that he can’t really bring himself to care for too long. And then Ryan’s crawling across the thick rug, still giggling as he tips Brendon’s chin up and leans in to kiss him sweetly on the lips.

*

After everything, the two lie together on the bed again, Brendon’s head on Ryan’s chest and Ryan’s fingers combing through his black hair. At this point, Brendon takes the time to finally look around this room he hasn’t seen in two years or so. He observes that not a whole lot has changed in that much time.

The walls are still the same purple color. Brendon lets his arm fall over the edge of the bed to graze his hands over the same shag carpet that’s been there since the 70s, since the owners prior to the Rosses were living there. Ryan’s always hated it, but Brendon always personally thought it was very cool and felt nice on his feet. Ryan says it’s like walking on a Komondor dog.

Glancing around, Brendon sees the familiar sight of sheet music and notebooks everywhere, and the little portable keyboard that’s propped up against the wall by the head of Ryan’s bed because he always wakes up at weird times with the urge to play.

Brendon rolls his head over to look up at the boy next to him and just watches for a while. His face is relaxed with closed eyes and the hint of a smile on his lips. Brendon isn’t sure whether he’s happy or nervous that he’s the one who made that happen. He promised the world to him far too quickly without really thinking, and he just hopes Ryan’s spirits aren’t too high because that will make disappointing him that much worse if he can’t live up to Ryan’s expectations.

Ryan’s eyes open at that point and he grins when he locks eyes with Brendon. He returns it the best he can and, with a sigh, settles back into Ryan’s arms. He’ll stay here for as long as he can before reality ruins everything again.

**R**

“You _rewrote it?_ ” The Butcher asks in disbelief. Ryan nods vigorously. “The month before production begins?”

“Just the ending, but. Yeah. I thought it could use a happier ending.” He holds out the rewritten script again which Mr. Mrotek takes from him uncertainly. He makes a face.

“You told me originally that you _wanted_ it to be sad. Something about the reality of life or whatever…You seem cheerier than usual today, Ryan. Any particular reason why?”

Ryan feels himself blush but forces himself to shrug vaguely, not saying anything. The Butcher scratches the light stubble on his chin thoughtfully before making a small noise of acceptance and stalks away to read over the changes.

Smiling, Ryan goes back to the rehearsal piano and works on the song he’s rewritten for the end of the play until it’s time to leave for his next class. He’s actually excited and proud of this piece, he thinks as he glances over it once before tucking it away into his folder.

“ _We must reinvent love…_ ” he sings quietly to himself and scurries out the door to head to lunch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the award for corniest use of songs by the band in a fic goes to me.
> 
> I still haven't really explained everything that happened between Brendon and Ryan, or what's happening now, but I probably will. At some point.
> 
> Smut wasn't very well proof-read because I didn't really want to relive it.


	8. Not On It, But In It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What you missed last time on HSM: BE: Acting on impulse, Brendon made his way to Ryan’s house to return a record and make up with an old friend, but also to make some promises he’s not so sure he can keep. But it’s the thought that counts, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw for slight homophobia and parents and divorce stuff??? but it's really badly written so it's mostly just awkward by e

**B**

“I just don’t understand what kind of satisfaction you get from singing show tunes,” Jon whispers across the table at Gabe who is busy copying Brendon’s math notes. Coach Saporta is off sick today (though Gabe and his close friends know that he’s actually out golfing with some college buddies) and they’ve decided to spend their now free period in the library, but Gabe had thought out loud about seeing if William was free to practice for callbacks and it’d all escalated from there. Brendon, sitting next to them with his face buried in a novel, rolls his eyes from behind his reading glasses.

“Don’t you get tired of whining so much?” he asks. Jon shoots him a look, but Brendon just shrugs. Jon turns back to Gabe.

“Last time I checked, you wanted to be a sports star,” he says, “to be on cereal boxes and the covers of magazines and shit. When was the last time you saw a Broadway star in a commercial for Gatorade?”

“Shhh!” the librarian shushes him from her desk. Jon shrinks down in his seat and his mouth snaps shut.

Gabe sighs, leaning back in his chair and tapping his pencil impatiently on the table.

“Do you know who Ramin Karimloo is?” Jon asks now, quieter this time. Brendon purses his lips and refrains from saying that yes, he actually does know, but only because of the phase during 7th grade when Ryan was _obsessed_ with The Phantom of the Opera and Love Never Dies. Brendon probably still knows most of the words to Til I Hear You Sing from when he memorized it to impress Ryan. He frowns as he remembers that he never ended up singing it for Ryan like he’d intended to. Things had changed before he could. As Brendon attempts to ignore the feeling of being punched in the gut, Gabe shakes his head.

“He’s this singer guy who’s in musicals,” Jon tells him, “my mom’s in love with him. She has a picture of him in our refrigerator. Yeah, not on it, _in_ _it._ ”

Brendon lowers his book and looks at Jon over his glasses. “Why?” he asks. He can’t help sounding just slightly concerned.

“I don’t know, one of her crazy diet ideas! Look, my point is that you’ve got a choice, Gabe. You can either be a hero to little boys everywhere, doing what you love and what you’ve _always_ loved…” he leans back in his seat and crosses his arms, “…or you can end up in my mom’s refrigerator.”

Gabe scoffs and rolls his eyes. “Look, dude, I don’t think you get why exactly I’m doing this. Is it not obvious? I’m not in it strictly for the show tunes or to become a professional Broadway actor. I’m in it for William.”

That last part hits Brendon pretty hard. All this talk about the musical had made them all kind of forget that Gabe has found someone important enough to him to make him willing to break the status quo. Brendon thinks that Gabe is pretty admirable for doing something like that, and maybe Brendon lets himself believe for a moment that he is just as strong by even considering breaking up with Sarah to be with Ryan, even when in reality he’s not so sure he’ll ever be able to do it. Ever since his conversation with Ryan, he’s been cycling through feeling determined, playing out in his head how his friends would react, and hating himself for being such a wuss. It’s exhausting, quite honestly. He’s not nearly as decisive and confident as Gabe.

Brendon is distracted from his already distracting thoughts (distraction-ception) when he catches a glimpse of a boy wandering amongst the bookshelves near the back of the library. The boy disappears for a moment behind the walls of books then reappears when he walks down the Fiction: S – R isle and stops to scan one of the top rows of books. Brendon hesitates for a moment, his fingers twitching where they’re holding _It’s Kind of a Funny Story_ as he tries not to be too obvious with the way he’s staring at Ryan and admiring every perfect feature from his eyes to his lips that taste so good and his mouth that says such shocking things when they’re alone, to his hands and his nails that leave angry red lines along Brendon’s bare back…

The book almost falls straight out of Brendon’s hands and he snaps back to reality. Ryan is still standing alone across the way, oblivious to Brendon and his roaming eyes. He wants so badly just to go over there and pin the skinny boy against the wall but he probably can’t even go talk to him like his hormones _aren’t_ boiling over without getting questioned by his friends. He’s never not felt this tension whenever he sees Ryan around school, but ever since yesterday it’s been a lot harder to ignore.

Brendon sighs to himself and glances between his two friends that are still going at it, then he slowly sets down his book.

“I’m…gonna go….hndghdsnm…” he only mumbles the last part as he gets up and shuffles away. He glances once over his shoulder to see that Gabe and Jon haven’t noticed his absence, just staring each other down like two cats ready to pounce, fur bristling at the backs of their necks.

*

Ryan is swaying gently to the tune coming from his earbuds and lets his finger drift idly over the spines of the books on the shelf in front of him. Brendon smiles as he listens to the boy softly humming to himself and gradually start to sing.

“ _Somewhere in her smile, she knows that I don’t need no other lover…Something in her style that shows me…_ ”

Brendon chooses now to come up from behind and pull out one of Ryan’s earbuds. The boy startles slightly but relaxes at the sound of Brendon’s voice, the way he always does.

“ _I don’t wanna leave her now_ ,” Brendon sings quietly, resting his chin on Ryan’s shoulder and a hand on his waist, “ _you know I believe in how_ …”

Ryan bites his lip and turns around, seeming to forget where they are and aiming to catch Brendon’s lips in a kiss, but Brendon backs away suddenly and holds him about a foot away with the hand on his hip. Ryan seems a little embarrassed with himself when Brendon stops him, but that changes when Brendon pulls him behind one of the bookshelves, in an area between the isles where no one can see them, and pulls the taller boy into a brief but eager kiss. As they both pull away, Ryan smiles. And it’s such a wonderful sight that Brendon can’t help pressing their lips together once more, and this time it’s Brendon who almost forgets where they are.

Brendon’s cheeks are burning as he pulls away suddenly when he realizes, and now they’re both thoroughly embarrassed. What a pair these two are.

“Uh.” Brendon states intelligently. Ryan chuckles.

“So I’ve been thinking about what you said,” Ryan begins after a brief pause, and Brendon’s stomach drops. Ryan runs a hand through his hair and looks at the floor. “I wanted to see if, after you’ve ended things with Sarah, you’d wanna maybe go to junior prom together?”

Brendon stares, speechless. He knows that what he’d said to Ryan might have given him some false hope, but he definitely wasn’t expecting this. All he’d really said was that he would break up with Sarah. Which he will. Probably. But he can’t pretend like he didn’t know what he’d been implying by that when he said it.

When he still doesn’t respond, Ryan fidgets a little in his place in a way that makes him look like a remorseful child.

“I know, I know,” he says, “I shouldn’t have asked. It’s too soon, and…But we could at least go as friends, right? Maybe?” And the way he’s saying everything in the form of questions is so strange to Brendon, because despite how quiet and shy Ryan can be at times, he’s never not been sure of himself. But Brendon can’t blame him for that after leaving him hanging the way he is. “I’d really like to be friends again.”

Brendon nods, trying desperately not to look like he’s about to throw up from the guilt and the anxiety of having no idea what to do about any of this. “Yeah,” he says, “I’d really like that too.”

Ryan doesn’t really look convinced, but he smiles anyway. “Cool,” he says. “Now, did you want to tell me something? Or are semi-public kisses going to be a regular thing now?”

“Uh,” Brendon mumbles once again.

“You look cute in your glasses, by the way,” Ryan adds as he reaches up to straighten them on the bridge of Brendon’s nose.

“Thank you. Um. This is really stupid and I’m totally ashamed, but can I have your number? Again? I…” _deleted it when I thought I’d never speak to you again. And then even after we did speak again I was too scared to ask but now everything seems to be going really fast and I decided it was now or never, so._ But before Brendon can say any of that (or whatever lie he would have made up in its place), Ryan seems to have read his mind.

“Say no more,” he says understandingly and holds out his hand. Brendon sighs in relief and hands over his phone.

\--

Brendon walks away from Ryan feeling guiltier than he ever could have imagined to be possible, but also happy to finally have Ryan’s name back on his contact list. He still has no idea when or how he is going to break up with Sarah, the heavy duty bolt on the door of the closet he’s shoved himself so far into, but he’s cycled back to the feeling of determination to prove his feelings for Ryan and to stop hiding himself from the world.

When he returns to the table, Gabe and Jon are still going at it, but now Alex has come to spectate.

“Do you have anything in common with him _except_ show tunes?” Jon is asking as Brendon takes his seat. Alex turns his head swiftly to see Gabe’s rebuttal.

“Sure we do,” he says, “we both think you act like a five-year old!”

“ _Shhhhh!!!!_ ” the librarian shushes once again.

**G**

Gabe is shooting hoops with his dad in the driveway later that same day when he decides to do something unusual.

“Hey, Dad,” he says, “I need some advice.”

“With your jumpshot?” Mr. Saporta doesn’t skip a beat in their 1-on-1 match as he responds. “You’re fine, Gabe, I told you. You just gotta—”

Gabe shakes his head. “No, like…well, what if I wanna do something, but my friends don’t think it’s a good idea?”

“What, like faking left?” Mr. Saporta makes a shot but it rebounds. Gabe catches it easily but stops moving. His dad looks at him quizzically.

“No, Dad,” Gabe says, “not a basketball thing. What if there’s something I like…like a type of music or a pizza topping, but my friends are basically shunning me because of it?”

Mr. Saporta looks at him for a moment. “Then I guess they’re not really your friends.”

Gabe sighs. He’d known that in his heart already, but it sucks hearing out loud. He just wishes there was a way to make everyone happy.

“Now let’s finish up this game before dinner, huh Champ?”

Gabe nods and starts dribbling again. He takes a shot, straight between his dad’s outstretched hands. The ball goes straight in.

**W**

“William, can we talk?” his mother calls nervously from the kitchen.

“Can it wait ‘til a little later?” William shouts from three quarters of the way up the stairs, “I've got a lot of homework.”

“But I really want to—”

“--got a PowerPoint due ~~Thursday~~ , gotta w-write up some note cards.”

“William, are you gay?”

He has reached his bedroom by now, but he still heard what his mom just said, though he wishes he hadn't. Gay, huh. William’s never really said or even _thought_ it in so many words (unless he was bashfully typing the words “hot gay emo boys” into Google, which he’s admittedly done more than a couple times). He drops his book bag in the doorway to his room then goes back to the top of the stairs to look down at his mom who is leaning against the railing, looking up at him worriedly.

“Would it be bad if I was?” he all but whispers. He can feel the dark expression he is giving his mother and sees it on her face that she's received the message he's trying to covey. She looks down at her hand, her nails that are scratching against the wood railing. She looks ashamed, and she should be. No one should have to be outed like this. Like it's a horrible secret that she hardly wants to mention, but has to. And she still hasn't answered his question.

“Are you disappointed?” William asks her, louder now.

“Of course not,” she says quietly, like she wants to be angry about such a notion but she knows deep down that it's true, “it's just that—“

“Then w-why do you look at me lately like I have so-some kind of disease?!” he screams with such rage that he has to grip onto the railing to keep from falling down the stairs. He holds his chest because it feels like it's reached its breaking point and his heavy heart is overflowing into his mouth. “Like I've got a month to live, but you're afraid to tell me! You're not that h-hard to see through, Mom,” he adds, the volume of his voice dropping a little but he is still shaking nonetheless.

His mother doesn't retaliate, but instead nods like what he's saying makes sense. Because it does. Even on the way to the New Year's party so long ago, the awkward look on her face when he had complimented her outfit had just screamed what William is screaming now. And it had only gotten worse from there.

“William, come here,” she says softly, beckoning him with a hand.

William refuses and stays put at the top of the stairs. His mother sighs and makes her way up to him and he wants to run and hide himself in his room, but he can't make his legs work. He wills himself not to sob as she pulls him into her arms. He resists at first, but his resilient anger quickly melts into pliant hopelessness and he caves. She presses a kiss to the top of his head just as he notices a letter in her hand from his high school. Squinting at it, William reads something in there about callbacks. Oh. So that’s how she came to her conclusion.

“Do you still think I think you're diseased?” she asks him.

“...Yes,” he mumbles honestly into her chest. He's still angry, but he's never had that manly ability to keep up the energy to stay like that. The adrenalin wears him out more than anything and leaves him unstable and shaky. He wants to shove her away and scream at her some more like she deserves. She deserves to see just how much she’s hurt him.

“Well,” his mother sighs with finality, like she's about to admit a secret, “I guess that can only be explained because...Well, I suppose I still have some hostility left toward your father. This is hard for me to come to terms with.”

William winces at the mention of his estranged father. He has no idea how that could possibly relate to his sexuality, and it only seems to be opening up more wounds.

“What?” he asks. He pulls away from his mother and stares her straight in the eye. “What does this have to do with Dad?”

And then it hits him.

“Was he...?”

His mother nods solemnly.

“But...but you s-said you kicked him out?”

His mother nods again. And William doesn't think he's felt this kind of mix of horror and rage before in his entire life.

“So what you're saying is...” he begins, trying to keep his voice level so he doesn't end up shouting and falling to pieces again, “the reason I don't have a father in my life is because YOU decided that because he turned out to be gay, you wouldn't have anything to do with him anymore??” and fuck, he's getting louder again.

“Well, he was going to leave us, anyway...” his mother tries to explain to excuse herself, but no. There's no excuse. William won't have it.

“But all those times when he called and tried to at least _be_ a father to me, and you j-just told him to leave us alone...” William starts to panic now as he puts it all together, “...and all this t-t-time, I had th-thought that he'd done s-some-something unforgiveable and that's w- why...” he wraps his arms around himself and he feels his stutter gradually worsen as he gets more and more enraged. And his mother has stopped trying to make up excuses now because it's pointless.

“THAT’S YOUR F-FUCKING LOGIC??” William screams suddenly, his hands shooting up to grab a hold of his hair because it feels like his world is spinning and he needs something, anything to keep him grounded.

“You kick him o-out of his son’s life be-because he didn’t know h-how to come out of the closet??” The tears start to flow now, despite his efforts, and he doesn't care that he just cussed at his mother because she's been a shitty one, anyway.

“I think you need to calm down,” she says, taking up a tone of authority and yeah, it's too late to be a parent now. Too fucking late.

“And now you th-think his son is going t-to do the same thing to so- someone else,” and fuck that goddamn stutter. He just wants to rip his tongue out, “and you think it's okay to just force him o-out now.” And now he's just making up his own conclusions but she fucking deserves this. She deserves his mind and mouth running away with him because she has reduced him to this. And he might be overreacting and he might be missing something, but he doesn't let his mother explain as he storms down the steps and grabs his coat before heading out the door, slamming it behind him without another word.

*

William mutters profanities under his breath as he walks quickly down the sidewalk. The words turn into white steam when they hit the cold night air and swirl up towards the sky, trailing behind him like the steam of a train. His hands are shoved deep into the pockets of his coat and he stares hard at the ground through shimmering eyes. He can’t think, doesn’t want to think. He just wants to get away from his lying mother and his anger and his confusion, and to go somewhere where his mom can’t find him to try and explain herself. William doesn’t want to hear it right now. And he knows he has a project to do and some other shit, but he just can’t bring himself to care about that.

William sniffles and roughly wipes away the tears and snot on his coat sleeve. Then he shakes his head and forces himself to breathe evenly. God, he’s such a loser sometimes.

He doesn’t bother to pull his hood up because the wind will just push it right back down. His hair flies everywhere, getting in his face. It’s kind of a long walk – he really wishes he had taken the car – and it’s freezing as fuck, but William grits his teeth and shuffles through the cold wind nonetheless. And he’s stopped crying for the most part, but his nose is red and numb when he reaches Gabe’s door, and the way his eyes are burning, he just knows they’re probably still puffy. Either way, he rings the doorbell and shifts from one foot to the other as he waits.

Warm air meets his numbing face when the door opens, and he wants to smile when he sees Gabe’s face, but he can’t bring himself to do that. He sniffs and pulls some tangled locks from his face.

“Bill?” Gabe gapes, clearly confused to see William back here again, not to mention seeing him looking so distraught, “what the Hell happened, are you alright?”

William wants to explain to Gabe exactly what happened, but he can’t right this moment. Right now, all he can manage is to squeeze his eyes shut and shake his head, like it’s too much. And it is. Everything is too much and he just wants to—

He falls into Gabe as he loses the strength to stand. His arms wrap around his strong middle and he buries his face into his chest. All William wants is to be held in someone’s arms for a while. Someone he trusts. Someone like Gabe. And not his mother who only wants to calm him down enough to get her word in when it’s not the fucking time for her to make up excuses.

William melts into Gabe’s warm touch and the relief he feels when he doesn’t push him away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this took me SO LONG and i didn't even FINISH IT i just left the rest for the NEXT CHAPTER because i am COMPLETE TRASH


End file.
